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Behind the Scenes of Destiny 


JAMES SEMPLE CAHILL 















































































































/ 

Behind the Scenes 
of Destiny 


BY 

JAMES SEMPLE CAHILL 


J 


dorranceT company 

PHILADELPHIA 





COPYRIGHT 1924 
DORRANCE & COMPANY INC 





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MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATE? OF AMERICA 


MAY 28*24 


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Behind the Scenes of Destiny 





















Behind the Scenes of Destiny 

i 

The countries of Europe with thousands of years of his¬ 
tory, rich in art, literature and the sciences reaching back 
almost to the earliest recollection of man, have ever been 
alluring and attractive to people of other nations. Ameri¬ 
cans, always curious to know what other people are doing 
and to learn what other people know, have for years poured 
into the old world by the hundreds of thousands, so it was 
nothing unusual to find a great number of Americans in 
Europe during the dark days of 1914. The experiences 
of those caught in the maelstrom will ever remain fresh in 
their memory. There were many who would not believe 
there would be a world war, but the philosopher said that 
Christianity and civilization were powerless to contend with 
human greed and passion. The pathway of the world’s 
progress is lined with wrecks of thrones, kingdoms, republics 
and other forms of government, and present-day civilization 
like that of history is built upon the shifting sands of un¬ 
stable ideals. 

Likewise the world war, like those before, was a result of a 
chemicalization of events, circumstances and conditions— 
everything seeking a common level—and in the future great 
good will result from the human suffering; and from the 
wreck great lessons will be learned, more liberal govern¬ 
ments will be built up and the world will continue to advance 
just as God intended. For several years before open hostili¬ 
ties began there had been a nervous tension in the capitals 
of Europe. The Triple Entente and the Triple Alliance 
caused many sleepless nights for the statesmen of the coun¬ 
tries who were parties to the agreements; while the rest of 
the world watched and waited for the inevitable. 

It was not a mere coincidence that Frederick Reaves was 
in Berlin during the last days of July and the first days of 


8 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


August, 1914. He had traveled from one capital of Europe 
to another for weeks, finally stopping in Berlin about the 
middle of July. He had watched the war clouds gather and 
hover tenaciously over the continent like “The Angels of 
Destruction” threatening to wipe out the progress of twenty 
centuries. 

He was an American citizen but he had been about the city 
too often to be classed as a tourist. In the midst of the great 
turmoil he stood in front of the window in his room in the 
hotel and looked calmly on the scene in the streets beneath. 
He was without visible business and was thought to be one 
of the many wealthy American bachelors who spend their 
time anywhere on the globe where it suits them best. His 
closest friends were those of the English colony, and he 
had been too often seen in company with one Lord Cullen 
who had for two months been a visitor in the city and who 
was at that time under suspicion of the German war office. 
His situation required thought. For a long time he stood im¬ 
movable, gazing at the dense throng of humanity in the 
streets below. The sidewalks were packed with civilians, 
while the streets were crowded with soldiers—cavalry, 
artillery, infantry—the Uhlans with their long spears mak¬ 
ing an evil display of mediaeval warfare. He had not finished 
the business which brought him to Berlin and he was not 
a man to undertake a task and leave it half completed. 
Another two or three days and his work would be com¬ 
pleted and then he could make his way across the border to 
a place of safety. 

He left the hotel and started for the American Embassy, 
shouts of “Hoch der Kaiser,” and the singing of national 
airs, mingled with the sound of horses' hoofs, the noise 
of artillery carriages and the incessant tramp, tramp, tramp 
of human feet, as the German hordes moved towards the 
French and Belgian borders, with one idea in mind, to con¬ 
quer, conquer, and make of a solemn treaty, a mere scrap 
of paper. 

As he approached the embassy he saw a long line of people 
waiting before the main doorway. Some were standing, 
others sitting on their luggage, still others were lying prone 
upon the ground, completely exhausted. They had kept their 
places all through the long night and now, notwithstanding 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


9 


the hot August sun which poured down upon them, they 
refused to yield their places and thereby lose their first 
opportunity to secure transportation to the border. He 
stepped inside the door and as he stood there looking at the 
distressed people about him, the thought came to him, that 
he had many friends and acquaintances of influence, among 
German people, and he must do something for those unfor¬ 
tunate Americans who were marooned in the war-stricken 
country. He went into one of the private rooms of the 
embassy and after securing the information he desired he 
started out and almost ran into a lady who had started to 
enter through the same door. He stepped aside and tipped 
his hat. 

“Are you connected with the embassy ?” asked the lady 
in a sweet voice. 

He looked up quickly, then for a moment he gazed into her 
face. She was tall with dark hair and soft blue eyes. 

“Well, no I am not, Miss Rotherford,” he replied, then 
added hesitatingly, “if there is something I can do for you, 
to help you get back to America, I shall be glad to assist 
you.” 

There was no sign of recognition on her face. For a 
moment she stared at him in silence then she smiled faintly 
as she said, “Pardon me, but I cannot recall having met you 
before.” 

“It was several years ago,” he replied, “you were visiting 
your aunt in Boston. Don’t you remember those happy 
days ?” he asked looking at her with a pleasant smile. 

“Ob yes, you are Mr. Reaves, you were on the football 
team and made quite a reputation. I think you have a won¬ 
derful memory to remember me after so long, Mr. Reaves.” 

“I have made a study of faces and names, Miss Rother¬ 
ford.” 

They both looked towards the reception room and at the 
people waiting outside. 

“I was just thinking,” remarked Reaves meditatively, 
“what I might do to help these people get across the border”; 
and then looking at her again : 

“Can I arrange your transportation or have your pass¬ 
port vised for you?” 

She looked at him with a tired expression on her beau- 


10 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


tiful face. For three days she had been doing what she 
could to relieve their distress and help them get started for 
their homes. Finally she replied. 

“You might be able to assist me in helping others. As for 
rnyself, I have friends here and shall not worry about getting 
home for the present; but these people standing in line out¬ 
side,” she continued with a look through the open door; 
“many of them have been there twenty-four hours or more 
and numbers of them are without means. I am supplying 
some of them with tickets and enough money to get home, 
and I have, after much effort, persuaded others who have 
money with them to divide with the less fortunate. So you 
see I am helping in every way I possibly can until aid comes 
from our country. The thing needed most now is some¬ 
one who can hustle along the machinery so they can get 
transportation.” 

“You have done nobly, Miss Rotherford, and as you 
know something about what is needed, and my business at 
the embassy is to help our people, I will place myself at 
your service.” 

“Thank you so much, and now let us get to business Mr. 
Reaves. Whom do you know that might be of service to 
us?” 

“Well you seem to be doing all that can be done here at 
the embassy, it seems the thing we need is transportation.” 

“Yes, and if you know someone in the transportation office 
you might prevail upon them to give us transportation a little 
faster.” 

“I know several army officers in the transportation 
department and if you think best I will go there at once and 
see what can be done.” 

“I do wish you would, and please return here and let me 
know what you accomplish as quickly as you can,” she said 
in an anxious tone of voice. 

“I certainly will,” he told her and immediately started on 
his errand. 

On arriving at the war office he was questioned, examined 
and inspected at every door and finally told to wait in a 
small office. After what seemed an interminable length of 
time he was ushered into a large room amid the noise of 
many typewriters; where busy clerks were leaning over their 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


ii 


desks and uniformed messengers were running back and 
forth with papers in their hands, stopping at desks and click¬ 
ing their heels together as they came to attention. 

One glance about the room was sufficient for him to spot 
the head of the department. He was leaning back in his 
chair dictating to his chief secretary. The officer glanced 
at him and motioned him to approach. 

Reaves’ quick perception decided many things in the time 
it took him to take the few steps across the room to the 
officers’ desk. Here was keen intelligence to deal with, a man 
hard and relentless, and for some unaccountable reason his 
sixth sense warned him to beware. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” was his salutation. 

“I am here in the interest of my countrymen who are 
trying to get home, sir; and I thought you might be in a 
position to facilitate the matter of getting them to Hamburg.” 

The gaze of the two men met and each held the other for a 
moment. 

“Why didn’t you all get out before we started to mobilize?” 
asked the officer rather brusquely. 

“We could hardly believe there would be a war, sir,” 
replied Reaves. 

“You have spoken with true American spirit; you 
Americans are so busy piling up dollars you haven’t time to 
think of your national honor. You should have seen long 
ago that our country was soon to be attacked on every side, 
and now that our enemies have started this war, we mean 
to conquer them before we stop.” 

Reaves did not reply to his thrust, he wanted the officer 
to talk and waited for him to continue. Little did he suspect 
that Reaves had been in Berlin for months, keeping in touch 
with just what was going on. 

“How does America stand on this war?” asked the officer 
after a moment’s silence. 

“We shall remain neutral, sir, unless we have cause to 
fight.” 

“America won’t fight anyway, she has no army and her 
navy is inefficient.” 

His last thrust was too much for Reaves’ impetuous tem¬ 
perament and he retorted sternly. 


12 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“We have never lost a war, sir. But we are getting off 
the business of my visit/’ 

The German’s face flushed, but he soon regained his 
temper. Some day he thought this stern, blue-eyed American 
might be an ally or a dangerous enemy. He was thinking 
just what could be his business in Berlin anyway, but he 
did not express his thoughts. He did not wish to incur any 
enmity in America just at this time, turning to Reaves he 
said. 

“The American embassy handles the matter of getting 
your countrymen to the border/’ after a moment’s hesitation 
he added, “I am doing all I can to help them.” 

“Thank you,” said Reaves. 

“I have many friends among your people here,” con¬ 
tinued the officer, “and when you return to your country 
take with you the good will of Germany, that is all.” 

Reaves left the war office completely puzzled. Citizens of 
other countries were being sent out of the country at a rapid 
rate and it was within this man’s power to send people to 
Hamburg or the French border any time he so desired. He 
was head of railroad transportation, and trains were leaving 
almost every hour. Indifference was not sufficient reason 
for his attitude, so what was his game? Was it that they 
wanted to find out the attitude of Americans towards Ger¬ 
many? Were some of them suspected of being English 
spies? There was some obstacle in the way—some reason 
in the officer’s mind for not facilitating the movement of 
Americans and he meant to find out what it was. He went 
direct to Police Headquarters where Americans had to report 
daily. He inquired for the chief and after a long wait he 
was shown into the private office of this honored specimen 
of a human bulldog, who looked up at him ferociously 
without speaking. 

“I am Frederick Reaves, an American, I wish to”—he 
did not finish. 

“Yes, you Americans have been bothering me for several 
days. No more Americans are to leave the city for three 
days, and that is settled.” 

Reaves keeping his gaze steadily on the face in front of 
him and perfectly calm said, “May I ask the reason for such 
an order ?” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


13 

“Our reasons are good and sufficient, sir,” replied he of the 
bulldog face. 

“Is it that any of us are suspected, may I ask? If so, I 
should like to help clear the matter up.” 

“I have my orders and I shall not disregard them,” replied 
the man turning his attention again to his desk. Reaves 
decided that argument was useless and departed. On his 
way back to the embassy he made some inquiries and found 
that some English had tried to pass off as Americans which 
was probably the reason Americans were being held up for 
the time being. He found Miss Rotherford anxiously await¬ 
ing him. 

“A little late,” he said, trying to smile. 

“But I am sure you have accomplished something,” she 
said with smiling confidence. 

He looked out of the window into the streets at the same 
familiar sight—cavalry, infantry, artillery, trucks, seemingly 
an endless line still marching in the same direction. The 
horror of the situation, the immensity of the thing struck 
him with terrific force. 

“I expected it, but now it is a reality,” he exclaimed for¬ 
getting for the moment the girl by his side. “Where will it 
end? I did hope it would not come—God forbid!” 

Miss Rotherford stood still, watching him. He was having 
his own moment of abstraction. Something about him con¬ 
vinced her that before her stood an unusual person, with his 
clean-cut features, his keen eyes that seemed to penetrate the 
soul at a glance. She found herself respecting him very 
much. He was capable of great things, she thought, and 
already she trusted him and felt that she must help him with 
his plans instead of allowing him to help her. As he stood 
there deep in thought, the girl nearby watching him, they 
were startled from their reverie by the noise of someone 
sobbing. He turned to see an old lady with a handkerchief 
over her eyes. He went over to her and inquired if he could 
help her in any way. 

“They just told me that I cannot leave for three days,” 
she sobbed, “I have passes and tickets for myself and daugh¬ 
ter, but no money to defray expenses here for three days.” 

“How much do you need, Madam?” asked Reaves with a 
feeling of sympathy for the distressed lady. 


14 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“If I could borrow four hundred marks I could make 
out,” she said, “I have friends awaiting me in Hamburg and 
I will be all right if I can get there. Oh—if I had only- 
stayed in America this summer.” 

Reaves had taken out his purse and was counting out some 
bills. Miss Rotherford had come up and was trying to 
console the lady. 

“Madam, here are five hundred marks, if you need more 
call on me, I shall be about here occasionally”; and before 
the lady could thank him he darted back to the door, and 
presently Miss Rotherford came up and stood in front of 
him. 

“It was very good of you to help that old lady,” she told 
him and after a slight hesitation, “I knew you were just 
that kind, all heart and good.” 

He ignored the compliment but looked at her as he said 
seriously, “I must talk to you, Miss Rotherford, and as there 
is no place here, I shall presume upon our short renewal of 
acquaintance and ask you to take a walk with me.” 

“This is no time for conventionalities,” she replied in a 
business-like manner; “I shall be glad to discuss with you 
any plans to help these people. Working together we may 
be able to do a great deal for them,” and looking at him with 
a faint smile she added, “I am going to let you do the 
planning.” 

He bowed and opened the door and motioned her out in 
front of him. They passed along the line of people waiting 
in front of the embassy door, frequently stopping to speak 
to different ones in line, then they went into the street. The 
crowd seemed to be headed up Unter den Linden towards 
the Imperial Palace. 

“An unusually large crowd of civilians,” he remarked. 

“Let us follow the crowd and see what the excitement is 
about,” she suggested as they fell in and were swallowed up 
by the dense mass of humanity. 

As far as they could see the street was a dense mass of 
surging humanity, shouting, singing patriotic songs and 
yelling “Hoch der Kaiser!’ They continued in the direction 
of the Palace until the crowd was so dense they could get 
no closer by keeping to the street, so he took her by the 
arm and they managed to get out of the crowd and make a 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


15 


detour and come up to the street again nearer the palace. 
As they came within full view of the palace they could see 
the Kaiser with his consort standing on the balcony. The 
crowd was moving back towards the sidewalks and soon the 
reason for this large gathering was apparent. The com¬ 
munists, the nationalists, the imperialists and last the 
socialists were seen marching up the street. They had suc¬ 
ceeded in getting near enough to see every movement. 

Reaves was again all abstraction. He gazed upon the 
sight apparently totally unmindful of the girl whose arm 
he was gripping so tightly that it hurt. 

“You have an almost superhuman grip in your hand,” 
she exclaimed looking up into his face with a smile. 

“Pardon me,” he answered releasing his grip quickly, “but 
I did not want you to get away from me.” 

As they again turned their attention to the street, the 
standard bearers of each party were marching by a certain 
spot just beneath the balcony and depositing their banners 
in a pile. Already there was a little column of smoke, 
winding its way skyward, which portrayed in beautiful re¬ 
lief the great patriotism of the people. This act meant no 
more factions, but a united Germany. Frederick Reaves 
the much traveled man of mystery and Miss Rotherford, 
American heiress, comparative strangers, stood arm in arm, 
companions in awe and bewilderment. Neither moved or 
spoke for several minutes, but a mental current told each 
about what was in the other’s mind. The yelling ceased, 
the singing stopped. All was quiet in that solemn crowd. 
Someone mounted a hastily constructed platform and with' 
hands outstretched and eyes looking up at the Emperor and 
Empress on the balcony, began to speak. 

“Your Imperial Majesties, in times of peace there are 
many factions among us, prompted by our different ideals, 
but always with the object in view of promoting the interest 
and welfare of our Fatherland, but at this critical period of 
our glorious history, when our sacred rights are trampled 
upon, our country and our homes threatened by enemy 
armies marching towards our border, we have forgotten our 
differences, we no longer bear hatred or envy towards each 
other, we no longer have disputes, but we have in mind 
only one thought and one desire: to work in harmony 


16 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

towards one end—the defense of our Fatherland—and as 
evidence of our sincerity we appear before Your Majesties 
bearing our banners and burn them in your presence.” 

Cries of “long live the Kaiser—glory to the Fatherland,” 
filled the air for several minutes. The Kaiser stepped to 
the railing and raised his hand. In a moment all was quiet 
again and he began to speak. “As God is my witness, I 
did not will this war, it is the most distressing thing which 
has happened during my peaceful reign, but now that our 
Fatherland is united, God is with us, and we are invincible. 
A great day is dawning. My armies shall drive back the 
enemies who threaten our sacred soil. I shall dictate peace 
in the enemies’ camp and add new dominions to my empire. 
Within six months we will be masters of Europe, then our 
attention must be turned to the great western hemisphere.” 

For some minutes loud yells again filled the air, his majesty 
stood and gazed at the crowd for a minute then turned 
around and went into the palace. 

“What did the Kaiser mean when he referred to turning 
his attention to the great western hemisphere?” asked Miss 
Rotherford speaking for the first time since she first saw 
the little column of smoke start rising up from the burning 
banners. 

Reaves did not reply to her question but endeavored to 
change the conversation by remarking, “This little dis¬ 
traction has almost caused us to forget that we were to take 
this walk so that we might have an opportunity to discuss 
the important matter of helping our unfortunate countrymen 
get back to America.” 

She was a little puzzled as to why he had evaded her 
question and seeing no reason for his doing so she said, 
“This is the second time that you have evaded my direct 
question. Now we will go back to my first question, tell me 
what you accomplished at the transportation office.” 

“Men do not like to acknowledge defeat, Miss Rotherford, 
therefore I did not tell you when I first returned to the 
embassy; but in this case I am compelled to say that I 
failed in the mission upon which you sent me. I interviewed 
the officer in charge and he informed me that the embassy 
was handling the matter of getting our people over the 
border. From his office I went direct to the Prefecture of 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


17 


Police, and that bulldog informed me that no more passes 
would be issued to Americans for three days.” 

“Then you accomplished nothing,” she said almost icily. 

“I have not so far Miss Rotherford,” he replied with a 
smile, “but I have just started to work on the proposition.” 

They both stood still gazing into each other’s eyes, she 
nursing her disappointment, and he pitying her for her lack 
of knowledge of the German character and their methods 
of doing things. 

Finally she broke the silence, “We must do something for 
those people,” she exclaimed. “We simply must.” 

“I am still at your service, Miss Rotherford,” he said. 

She had regained her composure, and after looking down 
at the ground a moment, she raised her eyes to his. “I have 
an idea,” she said, “I know an American girl here in the 
city, who seems to know quite a number of German families 
of prominence. I have seen Captain Heine with her several 
times, she might have some influence with him.” 

“What is the lady’s name?” he asked. 

She was thoughtful for a moment, “I cannot recall it just 
now, how stupid of me; but I only met her once and it 
has been some time since I saw her. I remember, though, 
where she is staying. We were introduced at the theatre one 
afternoon. I walked back to the house with her and she 
took me up to her room where we had quite a little chat; 
let me see, she was once interested in an American who is— 
or was—in the diplomatic service. He wrote a book con¬ 
demning secret diplomacy. She told me he was in Berlin 
then but she had not seen him. Her first name was Theresa. 
Oh—I have it—Theresa—Theresa Busch, and I shall go at 
once to see her.” 

Frederick Reaves was schooled to surprises and mental 
shocks, and he had long since trained himself to be con¬ 
stantly prepared for the unexpected. The allusion to the 
man in the diplomatic service was sufficient warning for him 
to steel his nerves for what he felt certain was coming. He 
did not give himself away to this untried girl by suggesting 
the name before it came to her. Caution always, take chances 
only when necessary, was the motto which he always tried 
to live up to. To let her know that he knew Theresa Busch 
would not help the cause of getting the Americans home, 


18 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

and that was his business with her, and besides, such steps 
were fraught with much danger to himself. He felt that 
of all people he wanted to get out of Berlin, Theresa Busch 
was that person, but he knew equally well she would not leave 
until it suited her own convenience. He wanted to learn 
something about Theresa’s friends in the city and this was 
a good opportunity; so he quickly decided on a plan of action 
and immediately started to put it into execution. Turning 
to Miss Rotherford, he said, 

“Let us hurry back to the embassy and see if anything 
further can be done there.” 

They started off hurriedly and on their way she asked, 

“What do you think of my idea?” 

“Your third question shall not go unanswered like the first 
and second. You have the right idea; go and see Miss 
Busch, but allow me to suggest that you take someone with 
you. It is not safe for a girl like you to be going around 
the city alone.” 

When they entered the embassy, he stepped into one of 
the offices while she went around among the people, making 
suggestions to some, speaking a word of consolation to 
others. Once inside the room he closed the door and 
picked up a telephone. Central quickly gave him the num¬ 
ber and a voice said, 

“Yes, this is she.” 

“Frederick Reaves speaking; come to the American Em¬ 
bassy at once, I will meet you just outside the door.” 

“I will be there in fifteen minutes,” said the female voice, 
and he heard the receiver click down. 

He sat there waiting and thinking until the fifteen minutes 
were up. “I wonder,” he thought to himself as he smiled, 
“how much his Majesty, with an eye on the western hemi¬ 
sphere, would give to know that this girl entered the allied 
intelligence service immediately after graduating from the 
great University of Berlin.” 

“How are things going, boys?” he asked as he got up from 
his seat and started out of the room. 

“Hard to get transportation to the border, Mr. Reaves, 
and no more passes for three days,” answered one of the 
clerks, without looking up from his desk. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


19 

‘‘Yes,” commented Reaves, “Germany will always be too 
slow when it comes to moving Americans.” 

He sauntered out into the reception room and seeing Miss 
Rotherford still engaged he walked to the door and looking 
out he saw the girl he had called making her way through 
the crowd. She bowed as she approached, and he raised 
his hat, and stepping up close to her he began speaking in 
a low tone of voice. 

“You will please go with the lady to whom I will introduce 
you to interview a Miss Busch, pay strict attention to Miss 
Busch’s manner and what she says and report to me at 
usual place first opportunity.” 

The girl nodded, which meant that she understood his 
orders, and at that moment Miss Rotherford was seen 
coming out of the doorway. 

“I was looking for you, Mr. Reaves,” she said. “I am 
going to interview Miss Busch now. What shall I say to 
her?” As she came up to where Reaves and the girl were 
standing he looked in her direction and said, 

“Miss Rotherford, I want you to meet a lady whom it 
has been a pleasure for me to know on my various visits 
to Berlin.” She smiled and looked at the girl as he said, 
“This is Miss Beeman—Miss Rotherford.” 

The girl bowed graciously and extended her hand. 

“I am glad to meet Mr. Reaves’ friends,” said Miss 
Rotherford, as she advanced and took the girl’s outstretched 
hand. 

“I am sure Miss Beeman will be glad to go with you to 
call on Miss Busch,” said Reaves, “and her thorough knowl¬ 
edge of the city will be of assistance to you in other little 
trips you might wish to take.” 

“It is asking too much of your friend, Mr. Reaves,” re¬ 
marked Miss Rotherford casually. 

“I am delighted with an opportunity to do something for 
you Americans,” ventured Miss Beeman, and her manner 
was so compelling that she could not be refused. 

“I really do dislike the idea of going around so much 
alone, and if you have the time, Miss Beeman, I am sure 
you could help a lot.” 

“I have nothing particular to do for a couple of hours.” 


20 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“Let us be off then,” and turning to Reaves, “When shall 
I see you again?” 

“I shall hope to see you here again tomorrow morning, 
Miss Rotherford.” 

The two girls made their way through the crowded streets 
talking as they walked of everything in general but nothing 
in particular, and after proceeding for some time they stopped 
in front of a large and pretentious apartment house. 

Miss Rotherford took a card from her case and looking 
at it said, “This is the number, it is the second story front.” 

They ascended the steps and sounded the knocker. The 
door was soon opened and a man in livery befitting a lackey 
of the Kaiser stood in the doorway. Miss Rotherford in¬ 
quired in perfect German if Miss Busch was in. 

“She is,” replied the much-uniformed figure in the door¬ 
way, at the same time stepping aside for them to enter. 

They were left in a large double reception room furnished 
in elegant taste, rich furniture and expensive tapestries were 
much in evidence. On the walls there were numerous 
paintings by famous artists. Through the window could 
be seen the evening sun just sinking beneath the horizon. In 
the square at the head of the street, full in the light of the 
setting sun could be seen the statue of Bismarck. But for 
him, thought Miss Rotherford as she gazed at the statue 
silently, this great war would not have happened. The door 
opened behind her and she turned to see Theresa Busch ad¬ 
vancing into the room. 

“Pardon me for keeping you waiting,” she said, “but I 
was dressing to go out for dinner with Captain Heine, a 
friend of my relatives here.” 

Miss Rotherford took Theresa’s extended hand, then 
turning to the girl who had come with her, “This is Miss 
Beeman, Miss Busch, who kindly offered to walk around 
here with me from the embassy.” She acknowledged the 
introduction with a bow and a quick glance which did not 
escape the strange girl’s attention. 

“I have often thought of you, Miss Rotherford, since the 
afternoon you walked home with me, and I had hoped that 
you were safely home before now.” 

“Thank you, but I am really glad I am here. For the 
past few days I have been spending my time in trying to 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


21 


help other Americans who are so anxious to get home. 
The plight of many of them is indeed pitiable; no money 
to defray expenses here; unable to get transportation, and 
worst of all an order came through this morning to the 
effect that no more passes would be issued for three days,” 
and fixing her eyes upon Miss Busch she said, “Knowing 
that you had influential friends here, I thought you might 
be able to bring influence to bear on someone in authority.” 

Without a moment’s hesitation Theresa replied, “I am 
willing to do anything to help them, Miss Rotherford, but 
I am not a diplomatic person, all through life I have made a 
mess of every attempt, and I feel so helpless.” 

Theresa Busch was beautiful as she stood there dressed 
in a pink evening gown. The full glare of the evening sun 
playing upon her golden hair. After a few moments’ dead 
silence, in which they all seemed to feel the depressing ef¬ 
fect of the sudden declaration of war, Miss Rotherford said, 

“It seems that we are all helpless; I met a man at the 
embassy who went to see the officer in charge of trans¬ 
portation and the chief of police, but he did not accomplish 
anything, and when I suggested coming to see you he said 
that you were probably in a position to assist us. That 
the only way to get anything done was to bring influence to 
bear on those in authority; and it could best be done through 
personal friends.” 

The conversation was interrupted by the butler again ap¬ 
pearing to admit Captain Heine, who had come to fill his 
engagement with Theresa. On seeing the guests he stopped 
in the doorway and bowed gallantly. Dressed in the flashy 
uniform of the Prussian Guard he was a picturesque figure, 
tall, fair, straight hair, his sword dangling by his side, he 
looked every inch a military man. 

“Oh—I thought it was Mr. Reaves,” exclaimed Miss 
Rotherford. 

At the sound of the name Theresa flashed her eyes upon 
Miss Rotherford but did not speak and in a moment Miss 
Rotherford added, “But for his uniform, he certainly would 
be the double of Mr. Reaves.” 

Theresa had turned suddenly very pale but she soon re¬ 
gained her composure, and after promising to do what she 
could to assist in getting Americans out of the country the 
girls departed. 


II 


As the two girls walked away from the embassy after 
being introduced by Reaves, he stood still and watched them 
until they were lost in the crowd then he turned and walked 
away in a different direction. He left the crowded busy 
section of the city, glad for the time to be away from the 
excitement and noise, and strolled along alone thinking. Not 
only were storms raging between nations, individuals were 
singled out as well. He was a victim, and danger threatened 
him from many angles. Almost unknowingly he had allowed 
himself to be led perilously close to the brink of an abyss— 
and by an innocent American girl. It was true that she 
had absolutely no knowledge of the danger to him, if she 
mentioned his name to Theresa Busch, but he could not 
tell her, and the mere mention of the fact that he was in 
Berlin might prove the spark to set off the charge and ex¬ 
plode all his plans. It was not that he did not trust Miss 
Rotherford but his sixth sense had warned him and he 
usually followed the course directed by his intuition, when it 
took issue with his judgment. He walked for more than 
an hour. It was a custom of his when under great mental 
strain to do part of his thinking while walking alone. He 
did not deem it wise to return to his room at the hotel that 
night. Theresa might report his presence in the city to 
Captain Heine and tell that officer all she knew about him. 
If she did, the Imperial secret service would immediately be 
on the lookout for him. 

Darkness must appear before he could make his way un¬ 
seen to the place where he expected to spend the night and 
wait until he heard from Miss Beeman. He continued his 
walk for some time until he came to a narrow alley on the 
farther side of which was an old house, a relic of better 
days. It was set back a considerable distance from the 
street in a very secluded location. He was no longer the 
light-hearted, gallant American gentleman. He had in his 
head many valuable secrets of the German war office and 

22 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


23 


the weight of their importance and the fear that Theresa 
would expose him made him feel that hidden eyes were 
watching his every move. 

He stopped and looked around him, and seeing that he had 
not been followed, opened the secret gate noiselessly and 
went into the garden at the rear of the house. After listening 
a moment and looking around him again to make sure that 
his hiding place had not been discovered, he went to the 
back door and took a key from his pocket and let himself 
in. As he turned to close the door he was facing the west, 
he paused before closing it, a cloud of gold and purple was 
rapidly turning into darkness. In that direction was America, 
home, and the last rays of light seemed to beckon to him. 
He stood in the doorway for a moment lost in thought, then 
shook his head gravely, as he murmured aloud in the night: 
“America my home, but I may never see Her again.” 

He closed and locked the door and went into a basement 
room which was sparsely furnished. In the center was a 
small desk, two or three chairs and a divan were placed 
about the floor. He walked over to the mantlepiece and 
pushed a hidden button three times. In a moment a man 
appeared noiselessly from seemingly nowhere. He had come 
from a cellar along the wall of an underground exit. 

“Any news, Gus?” he asked as he took a seat and put his 
feet upon the desk. 

“Here is a note, sir,” replied the old man as he took an 
envelope from his pocket and handed it to him. 

Gus Lenaire was born in Alsace, after that part of France 
was ceded to Germany by the treaty of Versailles. He 
fought under the Tricolor during the war of 1870-71. Gus 
married a German girl and went to live in Berlin. They 
had one son, Gus Junior, who was at that time in the 
German army and on duty at the internment camp near the 
city. Gus thoroughly disliked everything German, and he 
never lost an opportunity to instill the same spirit into his 
son. His wife had died years before, and since her death 
he had lost interest in life, and his hatred for the Germans 
made it easy for him to accept aid in return for giving 
important information to the enemies of Germany. 

Reaves placed the sealed envelope which Gus had given 
him upon the desk and reached for his pipe and after filling 


24 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


it with tobacco leaned back in his chair and started to blow 
little rings of smoke towards the ceiling. From the message 
in the little purple envelope he must decide whether he would 
continue to be Frederick Reaves jn Berlin; or disappear from 
public view. 

To calmly balance chances in time of great danger, to 
weigh the character of the people with whom you are deal¬ 
ing, formulate your plans, and then proceed quietly with 
their execution, requires the exercise of a highly-ordered and 
well-trained mind. 

Reaves had promised to meet Miss Rotherford again at 
the embassy the next morning and he hoped that she might 
feel disappointed if he broke his appointment. Her tall, 
graceful figure, those large, blue eyes, her open, yet deter¬ 
mined, face, all combined, were calculated to make any man 
want to keep an appointment with her, but it all depended on 
Miss Beeman’s report, and if he could not keep the appoint¬ 
ment he would send her a message to that effect. 

Men of great courage face a crisis with perfect calm, but 
are often nervous and irritable while waiting for the ap¬ 
proach of the event. The gambler will take a chance, but 
the brave man gathers up the threads of despair, weighs his 
chances, and courageously sets to work trying to turn defeat 
into victory. It was in this frame of mind that Frederick 
Reaves picked up the little envelope and tore it open and 
read: 

“We interviewed Miss Busch, she assured us that 
she would use her influence with friends and acquaint¬ 
ances in the cause of Americans marooned in this coun¬ 
try. While we were there Capt. Heine came to take 
her out for dinner. When the Capt. came in Miss 
Rotherford looked surprised and remarked that but for 
his uniform he certainly would be your double. Miss 
Busch became a little excited at the mention of your 
name. I shall follow them and report to you immedi¬ 
ately anything suspicious.” 

When he had finished reading he struck a match and held 
the little bit of paper until the blaze almost burned his 
fingers. He had long since learned that to tear up such 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


25 


notes was dangerous. Once several years before while he 
was on the witness stand in a famous case, a piece of card¬ 
board was handed him on which were pasted a hundred tiny 
pieces of paper, and an unsympathetic lawyer said in a 
gruff voice, “Do you recognize that, Mr. Reaves?” He did 
not intend that question should be put to him by a less 
sympathetic German advocate; anyway his memory was the 
great record file in which he stored innumerable secrets. 
That was always with him and he could consult it at any 
time. 

As he sat there puffing the little rings of smoke, his 
countenance softened and a gentle smile played over his 
face. Miss Beeman had sent in her first report. Theresa 
had found out that he was in Berlin and had not exposed 
him and denounced him on the spot, but he had no assur¬ 
ance that she would not do it later, even that very night to 
Captain Heine. 

Theresa’s father was a German; her mother was an 
American. Fifty per cent American blood in Germany 
against fifty per cent. German blood in Germany—which 
will win? He asked himself. 

Theresa Busch was born in one of the large cities of 
America. Her people were prominent in both financial and 
social circles; she was graduated from one of America’s 
great colleges for women; after which she spent two years 
studying art in Berlin, living with her German relatives 
during that time. The story of their meeting, and the love 
affair between herself and Frederick Reaves has been chron¬ 
icled by hundreds of writers, but none has pictured a love 
more beautiful or a devotion more real. Cupid never 
smiled with more joy than when they met, and never shed 
more bitter tears than when they parted. When she was 
introduced to society she was considered the season’s most 
popular debutante. She was beautiful, accomplished and 
possessed a most attractive personality. Why, then didn’t 
he trust her? Why did he stand in constant fear of the 
woman he once would have given his life for? The answer 
to these questions has ever been the riddle of the ages. He 
knew that her German blood might weigh heavily in her 
decision, but that would not be the main factor in her de¬ 
cision. Women are ever mysterious, giving away to their 


26 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


sentiments, becoming a victim of their emotions; and she 
was of the frivolous type, inexperienced, and lacking in 
stability, ever exercising the recognized right of the sex to 
change their opinion when it suits them. Such traits, coupled 
with extreme self-esteem make an unknown problem, the 
answer to which neither X nor figures can help you to find. 

Defeat engenders hatred, and in a sentimental battle of 
youthful love both had lost. In a fit of temper over a 
trivial affair she had told him that she hated him. That 
was several years before and probably at that time neither 
of them knew that hatred was near akin to love. He had 
been persistent and tried to smooth over their difficulties but 
she had refused to listen to his arguments and finally she 
had told him to leave her. He had replied that he would. 
And now the great question he was pondering over was— 
did she still hate him sufficiently to expose him at this 
critical time in his career? After pondering over his situa¬ 
tion for sometime he called Gus and told him that he was 
retiring in the room which opened into the secret exit and 
to call him if any messages came for him. 

The love for native country, that great feeling we call 
patriotism which is composed of sentiment, reason, courage, 
all of which probably originated from the universally recog¬ 
nized right of man to live in his own little home in his own 
way unmolested, has through all the ages been one of the 
noblest traits of the human character. The man who will 
not fight for his home and country is in this enlightened 
age a social outcast, the slacker is blacklisted and goes 
through life as a man not respected, while the soldier, 
whether private or general, is a hero. Due credit for brave 
deeds is not always given until years after wars are ended, 
but in the calm aftermath, sober and sane judgments prevail, 
the slacker sneaks away and hides, the pacifist ceases to 
criticize his government and public sentiment crystallizes 
into sympathetic reverence, and when the defenders of their 
country pass by on a holiday parade, bearing their flag and 
dressed in their moth-eaten, threadbare uniforms, a cheer 
goes up from every throat. 

In time of war there are many brave men whose physical 
deformities render them unfit for military service, there 
are others engaged in important work outside the ranks, but 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


27 


the slacker, the shirker, the man who tries to evade military 
service and the man who preaches peace when there is no 
peace with honor, such men are ulcers on civilization, and 
it is the duty of a nation to take serious steps against such 
men in the interest of good government. 

The clash of arms, the strife of war stimulates in the brave 
the noblest elements of character, and the highest acts of 
service are often done in the most intense periods of excite¬ 
ment. The brave arise to meet the emergency while the 
weak wail under the burden of danger and are lost. 

Reaves arose early the next morning and prepared for 
the day’s work. He walked with a light step towards the 
embassy to keep his appointment with Miss Rotherford. 
He had heard nothing more from Miss Beeman but he 
knew that she would keep in touch with Miss Busch and 
Captain Heine and report to him if immediate danger 
threatened him from that source. 

Miss Beeman did not know of his past romance with 
Miss Busch, but she knew there was some good reason for 
his sending her with Miss Rotherford to interview this 
American girl who was supposed to be studying art in the 
city. The excitement which she manifested when Reaves’ 
name was mentioned in the presence of Captain Heine, be¬ 
tokened both mystery and suspicion which was sufficient 
reason for her to follow them when they went out for 
dinner. 


Ill 


It was the morning of the fourth of August. The city 
was wild with rumors. The streets were still packed with 
masses of people; men, women and children lined the side¬ 
walks of the main thoroughfares being pushed back from 
the streets by a strong cordon of police so that the endless 
line of soldiers could continue its uninterrupted march. The 
streets leading into the line of march were a dense mass of 
humanity, bidding Godspeed to the soldiers. An occasional 
mother or wife would call out from the crowd as a dear 
one passed by, “My boy,” or “My husband.” Those nearby 
would look around for a moment and see them bravely wipe 
away a tear and turn again to look upon those dear to 
other mothers and wives. 

News had already arrived of the fighting on the Belgian 
border and of the Uhlans crossing the French border. In 
front of the billboards of the different newspaper offices 
there was the greatest excitement. A man would come out 
of the front door and post a fresh news item. 

“His Majesty’s soldiers have crossed the border into Bel¬ 
gium,” or “His Majesty’s cannon are blowing up the forts 
of Liege,” and the crowd would let out one of its cheers. 
After several messages were posted there was a long wait, 
then the messenger came out and made his way to the 
bulletin board, walking more slowly than before. The yells 
suddenly stopped, conversation ceased and all was still, that 
sudden and oppressive stillness which comes from deep 
anxiety from impending danger. The simple, and to those 
self-centered people the unbelievable dispatch was posted. 

“The British Ambassador asks for his passport.” 

It was an easy way of breaking the news that Great 
Britain had declared war but the people understood the 
meaning of the message. They were dumbfounded. They 
had figured England ^was neutral, but Old England, true to 
her tradition did not intend to make of a solemn treaty a 
mere scrap of paper. 


28 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


29 


Frederick Reaves gazed at the last dispatch for a full 
minute, then turned and walked rapidly away. He had 
known that England would stand by her treaty obligations, 
but he did not expect her to declare war for a day or two. 
What had become of Lord Cullen? Had he left the city? 
He was under many obligations to his English friend and he 
sincerely hoped that he had left the country. He was well 
known in the city and knowing many of his Majesty’s valu¬ 
able secrets, they would certainly search the city to find 
him. 

Lord Cullen was a typical Englishman, of an old and 
aristocratic family, who could trace their ancestry almost 
back to the Garden of Eden. Many of his ancestors had 
been prominent in the history of England, both on the 
battlefield and in the Forum. In tracing what he knew of 
Lord Cullen’s ancestry back and forth in his mind and 
thinking what a staunch friend he had been to him Reaves 
in a measure forgot the natural antipathy which he as a 
citizen of the great American republic had for a human 
being who has the title of Lord, which he has taken in vain, 
or had thrust upon him. He had seen the real man in him, 
in spite of the false assumption of the name of that Mighty 
Spirit before whom all should reverently bow. 

He walked on to the embassy and into one of the private 
offices where he was closeted with a high official for several 
minutes. Afterwards he went into the hall where he soon 
found Miss Rotherford who seemed a little perturbed at 
the news that England had declared war. 

“I simply cannot realize it,” she told him. 

“But, my dear lady,” he exclaimed, “what else did you 
expect? England keeps her treaty obligations.” 

“Oh, it is not that, Mr. Reaves, you do not understand,” 
she told him with a distressed look plainly showing on her 
face. “Oh, I almost hate these Germans,” she continued. 

He moved a step closer to her. “Please be careful, Miss 
Rotherford, this city is a perfect network of secret service 
operatives, only yesterday I saw one about here dressed as 
an American tourist.” 

She was a little frightened at his warning and he looked 
at her with a smile as he said, “I only meant to caution you.” 


30 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“Thank you so much, I am a bit upset this morning and 
I expect I need it.” 

“The embassy will have a tough job from now on,” he 
remarked, trying to get her mind off her anxiety. 

“What’s happened now?” she asked. 

“Well, they will have to handle the British affairs, and 
with the business of the French and Russian Embassies, they 
will have to work night and day.” 

“If we can only get the Americans across the border, I 
shall be greatly relieved,” she remarked. 

“Haven’t you heard that the ban on passes has been lifted 
and that quite a lot of them are going out today?” 

“I had not, but I am delighted; you seem to know every¬ 
thing that is going on notwithstanding the fact you are 
unable to move the machinery yourself. Are you sure the 
order has been issued?” she continued, feeling that the news 
could hardly be true. 

“Quite sure, Miss Rotherford, the embassy had a message 
to that effect this morning. Now the thing that has wor¬ 
ried you is all arranged.” 

She looked away and it was plain that something else was 
worrying her. 

He watched her for a moment silently then asked, 

“Isn’t there something further that I can do to assist 
you, Miss Rotherford?” 

She slowly turned an appealing face to him and remarked 
rather sadly, “I was thinking of the English who you say 
will be interned. I have some friends among them and it 
would be terrible to be in prison here when there are so many 
opportunities of rendering service at home.” 

“If you will give me their names there might be something 
I can do,” he said. 

She hesitated long before replying; she thought this man 
had failed the day before, yet she probably would not have 
gone to see Theresa Busch if he had not insisted upon it, and 
probably Theresa, through her friend, Captain Heine, had 
started the machinery going. How was it that he seemed to 
know everything that was going on before anyone else? Who 
was this polite, smiling American, anyway, she thought to 
herself ? She looked at him, he was perfectly calm standing 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


3i 

there with those penetrating eyes fixed upon her, a smile 
playing upon his handsome face. 

Finally she mentioned several names ending with Lord 
Cullen. 

“I know quite a lot of those whose names you have men¬ 
tioned,” he spoke up and after a moment’s hesitation he 
added, “The ladies will probably get home with little trou¬ 
ble, but the men may not fare so well.” 

“Do you know Lord Cullen?” she asked, looking at him 
seriously. 

“Very well, indeed.” 

“Where is Lord Cullen at this moment?” she asked, look¬ 
ing surprised that Reaves knew him. 

“I do not know,” he answered guardedly. 

“He was here two days ago,” she continued, “and I am so 
afraid these horrid secret service people or police will pre¬ 
vent his getting back home. It would kill his mother and 
sister,” she ended with a look of genuine distress. 

“Is his sister still here?” 

“No, she went on to Paris several days ago and will await 
Lord Cullen there, and they will go back to England im¬ 
mediately. I warned him, but just like the English he is 
stubborn and said he would probably stay here several days 
even though England might declare war. He sometimes 
visits an American friend of his who lives in a hotel, they 
seem to be great friends but he has never told me the name 
of his friend nor the hotel in which he lives.” 

Strange coincidents happen to us as we travel life’s path¬ 
way from the space we call time to the place we call eternity. 
Frederick Reaves knew from the moment Lord Cullen’s name 
was mentioned that before him stood the American heiress 
with whom his friend Lord Cullen was in love. He had 
spoken of her often but always referred to her as his 
American girl. He could not help feeling a little resentment 
or jealousy at her intense feeling for this Englishman, and 
he hated to think that the name of this charming girl might 
some day be added to the long list of foolish American girls 
who in their efforts to find happiness had exchanged a for¬ 
tune for a title, and in the end through temperamental in¬ 
compatibilities or worse causes, she, like the others would 
return to America, and her parents, after being dragged 


32 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


through the loathsome medium of the divorce court. Yet 
his common sense prevailed and he decided that was no time 
to add to his own troubles by interfering with international 
love affairs, and that the best thing for him to do under 
the circumstances was to keep her in ignorance of his real 
identity and proceed to get Lord Cullen out of Berlin as 
quickly as possible. While thus engaged in thought she 
said to him, 

“If you will only find Lord Cullen and see that he leaves 
the city before it is too late,—and you will,” she pleaded, 
“won’t you ?” 

It was on his tongue to assure her that the man she loved 
would soon be back in England, occupying his seat at the 
war office, but he checked the impulse and said, 

“I shall do my very best, Miss Rotherford, and in the 
meantime, when are you leaving for home?” 

“I shall start for England within a week, then I will be 
the guest of Lord Cullen’s sister, but I do not know when I 
shall go to America.” 

“Will I find you here at the embassy tomorrow?” he 
asked somewhat abruptly, realizing that he was losing valu¬ 
able time. 

“I shall be here mornings for at least two or three days 
more, and let us say we will meet here at ten-thirty, tomor¬ 
row morning.” 

“I hope to be here with definite news from Lord Cullen,” 
was his reply, and as he started off he turned back and 
whispered to her softly—“and if you don’t hurry, the man 
you love will be in England before you start.” 


IV 


Theresa Busch and Captain Heine sat quietly at a table in 
the rear of the great dining room at the Adlon Hotel. The 
Captain had selected the seats so that he would be facing the 
entrance, where he could get a full view of every person 
who entered the room. Theresa talked of past social events 
to which he had taken her and things in general for some¬ 
time, while he had but little to say. The conversation finally 
turning to the war. 

‘‘England has declared war on us,” said Captain Heine 
sarcastically, “and is sending her little contemptible army to 
France, but it will arrive too late, we will be in Paris before 
a division has crossed the Channel.” 

Theresa looked at him sharply but realizing that he was 
in a bad mood said nothing. 

At the beginning of the war the sympathy of America 
was divided between the Triple Entente and the Triple 
Alliance, and until Germany started her ruthless submarine 
warfare the division of sentiment was nearer equal than 
many people believed at that time. 

Theresa Busch inherited from her father his strong dis¬ 
like for England. England, he had said, was a selfish, 
jealous nation, ever concentrating her energies against any 
nation that threatened her supremacy in Europe. Her old 
game of working one nation against another and always 
keeping sufficient strength on her side to control the situation, 
had irritated the German diplomats since the days of Bis¬ 
marck; and by means of her wonderful system of schools 
that spirit of hatred had permeated the whole German 
nation. It had become a fixed idea, a sort of obsession. 
England some day must be crushed, but first they must 
humble Russia and France. But how to deceive England 
and keep peace with her until France and Russia could be 
crushed was the great problem. An idea sown in fertile 
soil grows like an acorn to a great oak, and as it grows it 
gains momentum. In this case the German nation did not 

33 


34 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


balance chances, weigh possibilities and provide for con¬ 
tingencies. Germany had become a powerful nation, she 
had the best trained army in the world, she had a great navy 
and her merchant ships, carrying the world’s commerce, 
plied the seven seas. Her commercial machinery at home 
was complete in every detail. No nation had ever accom¬ 
plished so much in such a short space of time. She was 
accustomed to conquering and doing things which counted 
in the world of nations. Didn’t Frederick the Great conquer 
Europe, and dictate the humiliating peace treaties, and 
Blucher conquer Napoleon, after he had defeated Welling¬ 
ton’s army? And only a few years before, Napoleon the 
third had surrendered at Sedan, and Bismarck had dictated 
the treaty of Paris. They felt that Germany was the 
greatest nation on earth, and therefore invincible; and the 
Kaiser himself had said, “Gott mit uns.” 

Captain Heine talked for some minutes about the fighting 
qualities of the German army and Theresa listened to him 
with great interest, which sometimes arose to enthusiasm. 

“Of course,” she told him, “there should be no doubt 
about the outcome, because Germany is prepared and will 
have won the war before England can render assistance.” 

She did not talk on the subject with her usual vivacious¬ 
ness. Sometimes her cheeks grew a little pale and the beau¬ 
tiful face at times had a troubled expression. She would 
sit perfectly still gazing steadily into the handsome face 
before her. The light hair, the thin face, those blue eyes 
and that Roman nose; only the mouth and moustache she 
did not like, but he was nevertheless just as Miss Rother- 
ford had said when he walked into the sitting room—Fred¬ 
erick Reaves’ double. She told herself that she hated 
Frederick Reaves, but her hatred was born of defeat. He 
had left her strictly alone when she had asked him to. The 
old saying that hatred is near akin to love only applies to 
the feelings of a woman for a man and with a man he 
knows when he is in love. Love dies hard, but when once 
dead it is the deadest thing that ever died, a matter of 
principle; character must be involved and if the cause is 
sufficient, forgetfulness of that which was good causes love 
to turn to hatreds 

Theresa knew that Captain Heine was a secret service 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


35 


agent of the German war office—having recently won his 
promotion for efficient work in ferreting out some interna¬ 
tional intrigue. One word to him, and Reaves, the man she 
once loved, would be arrested and put in prison or perhaps 
shot as a spy. On her way to the hotel, while listening to 
Captain Heine’s conversation, she had made up her mind 
that she would tell him that night. No better opportunity 
could ever be found than the present, and she must soon 
decide. The last course of their elaborate meal was being 
served and he would soon be taking her back to her cousin’s 
home, yet she hesitated. 

Tradition has it that woman’s nature is ever shrouded in 
mystery, ever pictorially romantic, a shifting, moving, in¬ 
telligence, subject to whims, emotions, sentiment and en¬ 
vironment. Kipling evidently had these things in mind when 
he said that the female of the species is more deadly than 
the male. 

While Theresa was reflecting over the consequences in her 
intended act, he spoke to her and she was startled. 

“I must hurry back,” he said, “there is important business 
which must be attended to at the war office tonight. If 
you have finished your coffee, we will be going. My de¬ 
partment is very busy during these strenuous days,” he 
added seriously, glancing in another direction. 

She was frightened. She must tell him now; but she 
simply could not utter the words. “Yes,” she finally said, 
after a long pause, “I had forgotten that—er—that you 
have to be going, but I quite understand.” 

Whatever might be said of Theresa’s German sympathies 
or her manifest hatred for the man who had upset her 
early life, she had never mentioned his name to Captain 
Heine or her cousins. They only knew that she had had 
a love affair in America and come to Germany to study 
art and try to forget. She had their full sympathy but they 
asked no questions. 

They arose from their seats and walked out of the 
spacious dining room, the Captain bowing or speaking to 
a number of friends and acquaintances on his way out. His 
attitude had not been the same as on other occasions when 
she had been in his company. His face wore a serious look 
and he had not indulged in pretty speeches with allusions 


36 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

to the beauties of love and a happy marriage, but she readily 
attributed it to the seriousness of the times and the important 
work he had spoken of. They started walking down the 
street, taxis were no longer to be had, either the drivers 
had been called into service or the cars had been comman¬ 
deered. 

She was still pondering in her mind whether or not she 
must tell him that Frederick Reaves was the man of mystery 
who had got so many secrets of the German war office, when 
he broke the long silence between them. 

“You Americans,” he said, “are queer people.” 

“What do you mean?” she asked in a half-angry tone of 
voice. 

“You asked me to assist you in getting the Americans 
home,” he said with a snarl, “and at the present time one of 
your intelligence officers is here gathering information from 
the war office and turning it over to England.” 

“Tell me just what you mean,” she insisted, resenting his 
manner and insinuations about America. 

“Just this,” he replied, looking straight ahead as they 
continued along the street, she with her arm resting easily in 
his. 

“Your people profess not to want to have anything to do 
with European affairs, your highest ambition is to pile up 
dollars; you do not want to share the responsiblities of 
civilization; you claim to be absolutely neutral, yet you keep 
in touch with everything that is going on on this side of the 
Atlantic and your secret service men are constantly in every 
capital of Europe and they are especially busy in Berlin at 
the present time.” 

She checked her step and released his arm. They were 
midway of the block and the street lights being some dis¬ 
tance away, he could not see that she had turned suddenly 
very pale. 

“They are a smooth lot,” he continued, “but we have the 
names of several of them, and as we are at peace with 
America, we are going to warn them to leave the country, 
but before doing so there is one we are going to arrest and 
put in a place of safety until this war is over. He has been 
too friendly with one Lord Cullen whom we expect to have 
safely behind strong bars before morning.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


37 


Theresa suddenly forgot her anguish and hatred for 
Frederick Reaves. The insinuation against America, and 
her growing fear of something, she did not know just what, 
was working a great change in her subconscious mind. 

“What proof have you that Americans have violated the 
laws of neutrality ?” she asked. 

‘‘Ample proof will be forthcoming, I can assure you, 
Miss Busch,” and feeling confident of her German blood 
and that he was personally held in high esteem by her, he 
continued, “and I thought your being fifty per cent. German 
yourself, you might render the Fatherland a service by 
giving me a little information about your American friends.” 

“May I venture to ask the name of this man whom you 
expect to arrest ?” 

“That I do not know myself; he seems to be an elusive 
shadow. We see his work but he seems always to disap¬ 
pear before we arrive. We are continually tracing him but 
have never learned his name or set eyes on him that we 
know of.” 

At his last remark Theresa smiled to herself and breathed 
more easily. At least he did not know Frederick Reaves 
and if given warning he would be hard to find. They had 
reached the front gate of her cousins’ home. They stood 
facing each other under the dim, flickering light of a distant 
street lamp, his tall figure towering far above her, and still 
feeling confident of her German blood he continued his 
little speech, “This man is believed to be the one man outside 
our own countrymen who knows a dangerous lot of our war 
secrets, and we must not let him get out of the country. I 
thought,” he finished, looking full of confidence, “you being 
of German blood and in sympathy with the Fatherland 
would want to enlighten us by telling me what you knew 
about your American acquaintances now in Berlin, and 
especially the man we seek.” 

Theresa was thoroughly aroused, she was sure now that 
Frederick Reaves was the American he meant to arrest. 
She saw the man before her in his true self. An unscrupu¬ 
lous human bloodhound; she hated him, and had only 
thought she liked him anyway, because of his strong resem¬ 
blance of Frederick Reaves. She flashed her eyes upon 
him as she said: 


38 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


'‘And this is why you have been so nice to me recently; 
the reason you took me out to dinner tonight; to ask me to 
turn traitor to my country and sacrifice my friends, and help 
you find the man whose very shadow makes you tremble. 
Oh, yes, you are afraid of this American, afraid to match 
your wit against his. The man you speak of has never aided 
the British and if he has got any of your secrets it’s no more 
than you have tried to do in America. He will never part 
his lips to divulge them to England unless you conceited 
Germans try to conquer the world and force America into 
the war on the side of the Allies. Oh yes,” she continued, her 
voice rising with anger, “you can charge him with anything 
and send your framed charges to the embassy, then try to 
justify your cowardice. You Germans think you can see 
far ahead; you think if America should join the Allies this 
man knows too many of your rotten secrets. America does 
not stoop to do such small things, but I warn you to beware. 
‘Blood is thicker than water,’ and if you give her just cause, 
America will come to the aid of her English cousins and 
then Germany, your Fatherland, will be lost—eternally lost,” 
she finished amid angry tears as she darted into the house 
and up the steps alone. 


V 


After leaving Miss Rotherford at the embassy, Reaves 
fully realizing the great risk his friend was taking by re¬ 
maining in the city, walked rapidly to their intended meeting 
place, which he had left early that morning. Doubt mingled 
with apprehension increased as he neared the house. He 
had promised Miss Rotherford, and had also promised Lord 
Cullen, that he would get him out of Berlin. As he came 
within sight of the old stone house sitting back from 
the street inclosed on all sides by a half demolished stone 
wall—he glanced about him, to see if he had been followed, 
and seeing that he had not, he entered by the front gate. 

In the unkempt yard there were flowers scattered here and 
there struggling hard to keep their tender buds above the 
weeds and grass, denoting that in happier days for Gus 
Lenaire tender hands had kept the place bright and cheerful. 
As he passed down the walk he stopped to break a half- 
withered rose and for a moment stood still looking at it. 

No sign of a human being was heard or seen about the 
place. That distant section of the city was almost deserted 
at that time of the day. Only a few people were seen in 
the streets, some children were playing joyfully in the 
street nearby, unmindful of the great tragedy of war in 
which their country was engaged. He walked around the 
house to the back door, and let himself in as he had done 
the night before. Everything was as he had left it that 
morning. He had told Gus to go to the various places where 
Lord Cullen would be likely to be found and tell him to 
make his way cautiously to this unsuspected old house or 
send him word where he could meet him. He walked over 
to the old mantlepiece and pushed the secret button, but 
Gus did not appear. He pushed it again and waited. Still 
there was silence then he went to the room usually occupied 
by Gus and peeped in, no one was there. The old bed 
with its half-soiled linen had not been made. From there 
he went into the kitchen. The teapot was on a cold stove 

39 


40 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


and the unwashed dishes were on the table in the center of 
the room where they had been left at breakfast time. He 
felt certain now that Gus had not found Lord Cullen about 
any of his usual haunts, but had probably got trace of him 
and was following the clue—uneasiness which he had before 
felt suddenly became distress, for he realized that his friend 
was probably at that very moment under arrest or had 
scented danger and taken refuge in some out-of-the-way 
place, where he could not find him. 

As he thought of his promise to Miss Rotherford, his 
distress grew and for a moment seemed to overwhelm him, 
but he was not a man to let sentiment hold sway over his 
reasoning faculties for any length of time. He returned 
to the front room, dropped into a chair, and picked up his 
pipe, and started smoking furiously. His mind it seemed 
would not work and his thoughts and ideas were jumbled 
and seemed to be running riot. Inactivity irritated this man 
of action; but one thing he decided he must do—wait until 
Gus returned. That being decided he felt more at ease and 
started thinking over events of the last few exciting days, 
what he had done during that time and the problems that 
were before him. 

All the big nations of Europe had declared war on each 
other, but America had declared her neutrality. He had 
spent most of his time the past few days in watching the 
great commotions and upheavals of war, suddenly forced 
upon unsuspecting people by their rulers. He as an 
American citizen should violate no laws of neutrality. He 
should not have promised to help Lord Cullen, an English¬ 
man, get out of Berlin, and he had also promised Miss 
Rotherford that he would assist her fiance. How weak and 
stupid of him to be swayed by an attractive personality and 
a beautiful face. He suddenly thought of Theresa, probably 
she had already exposed him and put Captain Heine on his 
trail. Why hadn’t Miss Beeman reported to him, he asked 
himself impatiently? She had only sent him a short note 
since she had gone with Miss Rotherford to interview 
Theresa; and that had told him nothing except that Theresa 
knew he was still in Berlin. 

The great courage and power which comes from knowing 
you are right was not with Reaves in his efforts to help this 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


4i 


Englishman get out of the enemy’s country. He had warned 
him before England declared war, yet he had promised 
that in case of an emergency he would help him, and Fred¬ 
erick Reaves was in the habit of keeping his word. 

“If I get out of this with a clear conscience my next stop 
will be America,” he said aloud, but as if fate heard his 
voice and answered there was a soft knock upon the door. 
He arose from his seat and went slowly over and opened it. 
Miss Beeman stood facing him. 

“I come from Miss Busch,” she began, “and to tell you 
about Lord Cullen.” 

“Come in and be seated, so we can talk,” he answered 
without smiling. 

“Why haven’t you reported to me before now, Miss Bee- 
man ?” he asked impatiently before she had an opportunity to 
continue her story. 

She saw that he was worried and did not answer his 
question, but started telling him about Theresa. 

“I followed Captain Heine until he went into the war 
office this morning and then started to the embassy to see 
Miss Rotherford. As I was crossing the Wilhelmstrasse I 
ran into Miss Busch, she had started to the embassy and 
was very much excited, her face showed that she had hardly 
slept last night. She put her arms around me and tears 
came into her eyes as she pleaded with me to help her find 
you.” 

“Find me?” Reaves repeated, gasping in surprise. 

“Yes, find you, and warn you that you must leave the 
city at once. You are in imminent danger; they expect to 
arrest you and put you in prison for aiding Lord Cullen in 
discovering some valuable secrets of the war office—” she 
stopped suddenly. 

Reaves was looking out through the window; his eyes 
were drawn to narrow slits across his face and she saw 
plainly that he no longer listened to what she said. For a 
full minute she watched him in silence, then took a step 
forward as she said in a pleading tone of voice, 

“Please do as Miss Busch wants you to and go to Paris 
at once, I can get a message to you across the border if 
anything of importance happens.” 

Theresa’s message of warning had awakened something in 


42 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


Frederick Reaves which he thought until that moment was 
dead; for a moment he felt deep chagrin at his own error 
in misjudging her; but he also knew that his own situation 
was too serious to allow himself to be swayed by his feelings 
towards her, so he quickly pulled himself together and was 
again the cool man of steel nerves, keenly alert and scenting 
danger. 

Slowly he turned and asked, “Where is Lord Cullen?” 

“Oh yes,” replied the girl before him, “I had almost for¬ 
gotten, I met Gus about an hour ago and he told me that 
you had sent him to look for Lord Cullen, and the people 
where he was stopping had told him Lord Cullen went out 
late last night and had not returned. Gus managed some 
way to get a look into his lordship’s room and he found 
everything packed up ready to move and his effects were 
tagged for New York, via Hamburg. He gave me this,” she 
said, handing him a little piece of paper folded several 
times, but nothing written on the outside. 

Reaves turned to her and took the piece of paper and 
slowly unfolded it and read, 

“I am being shadowed. I shall disguise myself as an 
American tourist and try to escape.” 

It was not addressed to anyone, nor signed, but the hand¬ 
writing was sufficient. He knew that his friend was in a 
great hurry when he wrote that note, and that it was left 
there in the hope that it might fall into his hands. 

He turned to Miss Beeman, “You are very good at sizing 
up people,” he said, “and before proceeding further, I must 
know about what to expect from Theresa Busch. Frankly, 
what do you think of her?” 

She glanced in another direction to gain time to think. He 
gazed at her intently, admiring the skill with which this girl 
handled a delicate question. She knew that he sometimes 
delighted in testing her ability as a co-worker but her rela¬ 
tions with Reaves had always been strictly of a business 
nature and he had been coldly distant; but now he was 
asking her opinion about a woman whom she had every 
reason to believe cared for him deeply, and that he was more 
than casually interested in her. She determined to evade his 
question and gathering all the courage she had, she turned 
from the window and took a step toward him. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


43 


“Oh, Mr. Reaves, please take Miss Busch’s advice and 
leave the city at once, it would—almost—you know that 
you are in great danger here, so go before it is too late.” 
After a moment’s hesitation she added, “A woman’s heart 
is not always constant.” 

“Then you don’t trust Theresa Busch?” he said, looking 
at her seriously. 

“I—did—not—mean that exactly,” she replied, as she 
turned her face away from him again. 

Love and hatred, kindness and contempt, are kindred 
sentiments and in some natures it takes a very small thing 
to change one into another. 

Reaves suspected that Miss Beeman’s opinion of Theresa 
was like his own, based on her sentimental nature, but he 
wanted her to put into words just what she thought, so he 
persisted. 

“Just what dangers threaten me at the present time? Did 
she tell you Miss Beeman?” 

She again turned and faced him. His questions irritated 
her and she felt a little offended because he seemed to doubt 
her judgment. 

“A woman,” she said coldly, “cannot always give a reason 
for what she feels; intuition is often more accurate than 
judgment. They know you are in the city and are deter¬ 
mined to arrest you on some trumped-up charge. You 
know Miss Busch is a friend of Captain Heine and you 
know he is a secret service agent of great reputation. I 
do not think for a moment that she will deliberately disclose 
the fact that you are still in the city, but she might in a 
thoughtless moment let drop some hint. I followed them 
to the hotel and back home last night. They stopped at the 
front gate and there was a scene. I was some distance 
away but after watching them a few minutes I heard Miss 
Busch exclaim in an angry voice, ‘Then you are afraid of 
this American; afraid to match your wits against his; and 
are going to trump up some false charge against him. I 
hate you,’ she told him, and turned around and walked 
rapidly into the house leaving him standing there looking 
like a fool, as you Americans say.” 

Reaves’ face softened and he smiled faintly, he had sue- 


44 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


ceeded in making his trusted ally say what he wanted her 
to. 

“Thank you, Miss Beeman, ,, he said and dropped back 
into apparent abstraction. 

“You are going now,» aren’t you, Mr. Reaves?” The 
question almost startled him. He turned around and looked 
at her. 

“That is impossible,” he replied. “Would you have me 
leave Lord Cullen in his present predicament?” 

“You warned him several days ago,” she reminded him. 

“I also promised to get him out of Berlin,” he said, re¬ 
buking her with a stern look. 

“And Frederick keeps his word,” she added with a look 
of sarcasm on her face. 

Notwithstanding their conversation had almost reached the 
point of offense she knew that she had driven home the 
fact that he was in great danger. 

Her instructions from her own government were to render 
any assistance in her power to this American and she had 
no idea of losing sight of her instructions. She walked over 
to the door and took hold of the knob and looking back at 
him with a smile she said, “If there is nothing more that I 
can do I will be on my way.” 

“Miss Beeman—” at the same moment he called her 
name there was a noise at the back door. They both stood 
still listening. They heard the door open and close and the 
key turn in the lock. They recognized the almost noiseless 
step of Gus as he made his way to the front room. He 
stopped in the doorway, looking at first one then the other, 
his whole attitude denoting excitement. 

“Well?” said Reaves. 

“Oh, sir, I hurried out as soon as you left this morning 
and went to every place you told me, and he was gone, sir.” 

“Where is Lord Cullen?” asked Reaves impatiently. 

“I went everywhere, sir, and when I started back I came 
by the war office and this officer, sir, who looks so much like 
you, came up the steps by me and at the top of the steps I 
heard him tell another officer, ‘His Lordship is safe behind 
the bars,’ and the man addressed said, ‘Who, Lord Cullen?’ 
‘Yes, the Englishman,’ he said, ‘is in the internment camp.’ 
As soon as I heard that, sir, I hurried here to tell you.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


45 


Reaves had already decided in his mind just what had 
happened to his friend, and he had made his plans to cover 
just such a contingency, so he was not in the least disturbed 
by what Gus told him. 

“You have done all that you could do, Gus/’ he said 
calmly, “you may go now, but I will need you later.” 

He turned to Miss Beeman. ‘*You will please find Miss 
Busch and tell her that her timely message fills me with 
gratitude and places me under great and enduring obligations 
to her, and that, as a result of her warning I shall immedi¬ 
ately take steps to avert the dangers which threaten me.” 

He turned his eyes and looking steadily into those of the 
girl, “If you can persuade her to have Captain Heine call 
on her at eight o’clock this evening and send me a message 
to that effect it will be of great assistance to me.” 

The girl nodded her head; the door opened and closed 
gently and Reaves stood in the room alone. 

Up to this time he had not come in direct conflict with the 
German secret service or police, and now he was puzzling 
his brain as to how he could help Lord Cullen and at the 
same time remain neutral. He had never in any way as¬ 
sisted Cullen in obtaining information for the British gov¬ 
ernment, but Theresa’s message put matters in a different 
light. He was regarded as a dangerous enemy by the 
German government, and some charge was to be trumped 
up against him. He was to be arrested and imprisoned be¬ 
cause he had English friends visiting Berlin at the same 
time he happened to be in the jcity. Probably Theresa was 
right, they wanted to get rid of him because he knew too 
many of their rotten secrets. 

“Well, I will go,” he said to himself, “and Lord Cullen 
will go with me.” 

He figured out his plan of action to the minutest detail, 
then he called Gus and told him just what he had mapped 
out for him to do that afternoon. 

“Yes, sir,” the faithful man said, and as he started away 
Reaves said, 

“When you return you will find me asleep in the secret 
chamber, if you have anything important to report awaken 
me immediately.” 


VI 


Reaves awoke with a start. From his underground sleep¬ 
ing quarters he could hear a great rumbling noise, which 
reminded him of the distant roar of artillery. He dressed 
hurriedly and went up to the front room, everything was in 
order. He had at least not been discovered so far. He 
walked over to the window; a flash of lightning greeted him 
from that hot August night and again he heard the distant 
rumbling noise. A storm was brewing, chance favored him 
he thought as he smiled to himself. He heard steps in the 
hall and turned to see Gus entering the room. 

“Is all arranged, Gus ?” he asked. 

The old man nodded, and handed him a slip of paper; 
at the same time he leaned over and whispered something into 
his ear. It was the password for the night at the intern¬ 
ment camp where Lord Cullen was confined. 

He opened the little slip of paper and looked at it. Miss 
Beeman had carried out her mission even better than he had 
expected. He lit a cigarette and with the same match burned 
the little slip of paper. He then took a seat by the desk 
and wrote a few lines; put it in an envelope and sealed it. 

Without there was calm; that perfect calmness which 
precedes a storm, except for the occasional distant roar of 
thunder. He walked over to the window again; the flashes 
of lightning were almost blinding. There were but few 
street lights in that section of the city and between the 
flashes an impenetrable gloom seemed to settle over the city. 
The time was almost up. A few minutes more, and he 
must start on one of the most dangerous missions of his 
whole career; and the success or failure of the adventure 
meant more than he could calculate at that time. His 
thoughts went back to the time he first met Theresa, and 
for a moment a feeling of sadness and regret seemed to 
possess him, but how thankful he was that she had stood by 
him in time of great need. He glanced at his watch and 
turned around as he replaced it in his pocket. 

46 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


47 


“Gus,” he said, addressing the old man with solemn, yet 
kindly words, “I may not get back for a long time, but if 
there is anything you need in my absence, go to Miss Bee- 
man ; she will look after you.” 

Gus Lenaire loved his American benefactor as a faithful 
servant loves a kind master. The old man turned away and 
his head dropped to his chest. 

Reaves stood and looked at him for a full minute then 
picked up his hat and with his hand on the doorknob, he 
looked back, the old man had not moved. “Good-bye, Gus, 
and God bless you!” he said. 

Gus heard the door open and close, and as he turned 
around retreating footsteps told him that this man of mystery 
was on a great adventure, to match his wits with the keenest 
intellects of the German intelligence office. 

* * * * * 

Following Reaves’ instructions. Miss Beeman left Gus’s 
house and went at once to see Theresa. When she arrived 
at the house, Theresa, being anxious of news of Reaves, 
received her immediately. She seemed very much affected 
when told that Reaves felt very grateful for her timely 
warning and that her expression of renewed interest in him 
gave him new courage and filled his heart with fresh hope. 
Miss Beeman, knowing Theresa’s temperament, maneuvered 
the conversation with the skill of a great musician, playing 
on the emotions of his audience, and at the psychological 
moment she looked at her seriously and said, “There is 
only one man who might prevent his escape.” 

“Who is he?” Theresa asked, looking up quickly. 

“Captain Heine,” was the calm reply, and after a moment’s 
silence she added, “I thought you might want to have him 
down here to see you about eight o’clock this evening, and 
that he might stay perhaps until half past eleven.” 

In her great anxiety about Reaves, she forgot her pride. 
Twenty-four hours before she Would have told anybody 
that she hated him, but when she learned that he was in 
great danger something in her changed. There was sud¬ 
denly a great awakening and a transformation. He was 
again her hero, accomplishing great things. She knew the 
workings of his mind and admired his genius and daring. 
At that moment all to her, other men sank into insignificance 


48 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


when compared to him. After a long silence she got up 
and walked over to the telephone and called the number. 
Miss Beeman heard her say that she wished to speak to 
Captain Heine.. Her voice was never so sweet, her conver¬ 
sation never so enticing. She was so sorry she lost her 
temper the night before and she must see him tonight and 
explain. She hung up the receiver and walked back to Miss 
Beeman. 

“He will come at eight o’clock,” she said, smiling trium¬ 
phantly. 

Miss Beeman thanked her for her assistance and on the 
pretense of other urgent business to look after, she started 
to leave. 

Theresa up to this time had only been interested in Reaves 
getting away from Berlin, but now the thought suddenly 
flashed into her mind that this girl in her room was taking 
a great deal of interest in him and for some reason she had 
been willing to send a message to Reaves by the girl, but 
she saw now that her messenger was a possible rival. She 
probably suspected the real truth, but she was curious enough 
to want to be certain. A strong feeling of jealousy seized 
her and she turned cold eyes upon the girl who had come 
to her on behalf of Reaves. 

“How long have you known Mr. Reaves ?” she asked. 

Miss Beeman was prepared for all such questions. Reaves 
had told her just a little and warned her of Theresa’s 
nature. 

“Mr. Reaves,” she smiled as she saw the jealousy in the 
other’s face, 

“I have known him slightly for quite a while and I have 
known him by reputation for several years but I only know 
him in a business way.” 

Theresa was not good at acting where women were con¬ 
cerned. She continued to look at Miss Beeman, her eyes 
still expressing an element of doubt. 

“I shall always be glad to do anything I can for you two,” 
continued Miss Beeman, seeing Theresa’s expression of 
doubt. 

“Are you a German?” asked Theresa. 

Miss Beeman smiled and shook her head as she replied, 
“I was educated at the University of Berlin.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


49 


It suddenly dawned upon Theresa that this girl was a 
trusted agent of the allied governments. She quickly looked 
at Miss Beeman, the smile had returned to her face. 

“I understand,” she said after a long pause, “how stupid 
of me not to have known. I hope you will pardon me.” 

The other smiled and extended her hand. “If all goes 
well,” she told her, “I will bring you news of Mr. Reaves 
again in a few days.” 

“I am sure it will,” replied Theresa as the girl passed 
out of the door. 

She was now satisfied that Miss Beeman was a secret 
agent of the Allies and her heart softened towards this girl 
as she thought that Reaves trusted her and that he never 
trusted a person until he tried them out in many ways. She 
also knew that the only news she would have of him for 
sometime would be through this girl. 

Now that Miss Beeman’s friendship was an established 
fact, she felt easy on that point and with great diligence she 
set about to prepare for Captain Heine, who was to call at 
eight o’clock. She laid out her prettiest dress and picked 
out shoes and hose to match. In fact nothing was left 
undone to make herself as attractive as possible. She put 
everything out on her bed and looked at it, then walked 
over to the mirror and examined her complexion and hair. 
She looked back at the bed, everything was in perfect har¬ 
mony except her complexion. She was a little pale from 
worry and loss of sleep, but a little rogue would fix that, 
she thought to he'*self. It was beginning to get dark and 
she turned on the electric light. Suddenly the distant rum¬ 
bling noise which had been heard by Reaves reached her 
acute ear. She went to the window and looked out. Day¬ 
light was rapidly disappearing and looking towards the west 
she saw a dark cloud. She listened and again heard the 
distant rumbling. She was not mistaken, a storm was 
brewing and it would be raining at the very time Captain 
Heine was to arrive. “Will he come? Will he come in 
spite of the storm?” she asked herself out of the anguish 
of her soul. 

Miss Beeman had said eight o’clock and she knew at 
that hour Frederick Reaves wanted Captain Heine out of 
the way for some purpose. Her face clouded, she could not 


50 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


know that the same noise which cast a shadow over her 
face had caused Frederick Reaves, the man she was trying 
to help, to smile. She could only see that there was danger 
to his plans if Captain Heine remained at the war office that 
night. She went over to the telephone and picked up the 
receiver and as suddenly replaced it. It would not do to 
call him again. She would give the whole scheme away 
and cast suspicion upon herself. She must wait, and hope 
that there would be no storm or that he would come regard¬ 
less of the downpour. Seven o’clock came and she went in 
to dinner with the members of the family. The war, as 
usual, was the chief topic of conversation. Once the lady of 
the house indulged in some pleasantry concerning Captain 
Heine and Theresa. But Theresa smiled and very tactfully 
changed the subject. She excused herself on the pretext 
of having to dress and left the dining-room before the mem¬ 
bers of the family. 

She went to her room and started to dress, dismissing the 
doubts about his coming from her mind for the time being. 
Her whole attention was centered on her efforts to look her 
best. She put on her clothes a piece at a time, looking into 
the long mirror each time to see that it was exactly right. 
She kept repeating to herself that she must keep him away 
from the war office until twelve o’clock. With the assistance 
of the maid she had finished dressing a few minutes of 
eight o’clock and went over and took a seat in an easy chair 
near the window. Outside the storm was getting underway. 
The thunder roared and the lightning flashed fiercely. The 
wind was bending the trees and blowing the leaves and 
dust in the windows. A few large drops of rain were falling. 
She looked at her watch. It was five minutes of eight. 
Captain Heine had always been prompt in keeping his en¬ 
gagements with her. Only once had he been late and that 
time he had telephoned himself; but war was on now and 
he had told her he might have to break an engagement any¬ 
time, to look after important business. Her heart began 
to beat faster and she was struck with terror at the thought 
that Reaves might be caught in his attempt to escape from 
Germany. It had grown quite dark and rain had begun to 
fall faster. She looked out through the window, the streets 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


5i 


were rapidly being deserted. The few people visible were 
hurrying to some place where they could find shelter from 
the storm. 

The front doorbell rang. It startled her for a moment, 
then she jumped up and ran to the mirror. She examined 
herself critically, looking at herself from first one angle then 
another. Finally she powdered her nose again and went and 
stood by the closed door listening. She heard voices, but 
not that of Captain Heine. The doorman had let in some 
member of the family who had gone out without a key. Her 
heart sank within her. Slowly she walked back to the 
window and peered out into the horrible blackness of that 
stormy night. A flash of lightning almost blinding in in¬ 
tensity greeted her and in that fraction of a second while 
the earth was lighted up she saw in the distance, through 
the downpouring rain, the distinct outline of an army motor 
car approaching from the direction of the war office at rapid 
speed. Her heart leaped with joy, and she turned quickly 
back to the mirror and started again tucking up little loose 
ends of her hair. She heard the doorbell and again voices. 
This time she was not mistaken, the captain’s voice was 
unmistakable. There was a knock on her door and as she 
turned around she was greeted by a broad smile from her 
hostess cousin who was standing in the doorway. 

'‘My dear cousin Theresa,” she said, "this is really getting 
serious; he calls almost every day. When is the big event 
coming off? If you don’t tell me before anyone else, I am 
going to be very angry.” 

"Isn’t he the handsomest thing you ever saw?” said 
Theresa, continuing to arrange her toilet. 

"He is that, and so nice,” the other answered. 

"Do you really think he cares for me?” asked Theresa, 
looking cautiously at her cousin. 

Her cousin went up to her and put an affectionate arm 
around her waist. "He is simply wild about you,” she said, 
"and I want you two to get married, so you can live in 
Berlin all your lfie. You like Germany just as well as 
America now, don’t you, dear ?” 

"Yes, but I get homesick for America sometimes,” replied 
Theresa thoughtfully. 


52 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


Her cousin kissed her and said, “You will be so happy 
with Captain Heine that you will forget America.” 

Theresa was thoughtful for a moment, then she took her 
arm from around her cousin’s waist and glanced in the 
mirror. 

“Do I look all right now?” she asked as she turned about. 

“You are adorable, my dear cousin Theresa. You are 
simply irresistible.” 

“I shall try to be,” said Theresa as she put her arm about 
her cousin again and started towards the large sitting-room 
where Captain Heine was waiting. 

The hostess had already greeted Captain Heine and when 
they arrived at the reception room door she bowed and 
said some pleasantry, then left the young people to them¬ 
selves. 

Theresa bowed to the captain and smiled her most gracious 
smile, and he returned her greeting. 

“What on earth must you think of me, after my acting so 
horridly last night?” said Theresa, extending her hand. 

He took her slender hand in both of his and bent his 
head toward her face. 

“You were beautiful in your anger last night and tonight 
you are simply adorable. Forget about last night,” he con¬ 
tinued, “and let us be happy now. You are simply ador¬ 
able,” he repeated, “and you cannot continue putting me off. 
You must tell me tonight that you will marry me soon. I 
may be ordered away from Berlin anytime and I cannot leave 
feeling that you may forget me and return to America.” 

He took a step closer and looking at her seriously, he said, 
“Oh—Theresa, can’t you see that I am desperately in love 
with you? Won’t you make me the happiest man in the 
world by promising me that you will marry me?” 

Theresa looked away, her task had at once become both 
easy and difficult. She had indeed succeeded in making her¬ 
self attractive to him but she had not counted on his making 
love to her so ardently that night. In fact, she had doubted 
her ability to explain away her display of anger the night 
before, but love works in mysterious ways, and the fact 
that she had defended America and the man he sought to 
arrest, had served to enhance his respect for her. A soldier 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


53 


has little respect for a coward and Theresa had shown her 
courage when an American was threatened. His complete 
change from the haughty self-important attitude which was 
usual with German officers aroused a bit of suspicion in her 
mind and she felt that she must handle the situation with 
great care. His attitude after all, might be simply another 
method of getting information from her concerning Reaves. 
The night before she had accused him of being afraid to 
match his wits against Reaves’. And tonight she found her¬ 
self compelled to match wits with him herself, in an effort 
to save Reaves. She let him hold her hand without resisting. 
After looking away for a minute in silence she turned her 
head and looked up into his handsome face. His look was 
sincere but she could not trust him. 

“You cannot love me,” she told him, “after last night.” 

He bent his head towards her face. “But I do love you 
more than I can ever tell you and what you did last night 
only convinces me of your loyalty to what you think is right, 
and you are a German anyway. If you will marry me it 
won’t be long before you will see things in their proper light.” 

“What do you mean by seeing things in their proper 
light ?” she asked, with her eyes meeting his steady gaze. 

“Well,” he replied, “America may not always be friendly 
to the Fatherland and I can soon convince you that my act 
of having this American arrested and interned is necessary 
to the safety of the German Empire. He has valuable 
secrets in his possession which could be used against us if he 
chose to use them.” 

Theresa realized that she was gradually being led up to 
the point where she would be trapped if she took either side 
of the discussion too strongly. She had told him that she 
was sorry that she had offended him the night before and 
she must continue to play that part, yet she could let him 
know that she was still interested in this American. 

For a moment she was thoughtful, then she said, 

“Of course, I can understand your position and it was so 
stupid of me not to understand it last night. The Father- 
land must be your first thought, and you should do every¬ 
thing in your power to protect her interest. I know so little 
about government affairs anyway and last night I could not 


54 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


think this American knew anything that would make any 
difference.” She looked up at him trying to appear unin¬ 
terested. 

“Have you arrested this man yet ?” she asked, at the same 
time making a strong effort to control her emotions. 

He suddenly dropped her hand and looked away. He 
had not yet succeeded and his pride was hurt that this man 
should elude him so long. 

“No,” he replied slowly, “but I have him located and his 
hiding-place is being watched. I shall arrest him tonight 
when I leave here.” 

She noticed that he was watching her closely with his 
cold eyes. A few minutes before he had begged her to 
marry him, but now the mask had dropped from his face 
and he was again the relentless, cold-blooded man hunter 
and one of the shrewdest men in the secret service. She 
felt that he was reading her every thought and it was with 
great difficulty that she controlled her heart. She knew 
that he really did care for her, and she could not much 
blame him for wanting to arrest Reaves if he knew Reaves 
had in his possession important secrets of the war office, 
yet she was none the less determined to do her best to keep 
him occupied until a late hour, so Reaves would have several 
hours' start in which to make his escape. She looked at 
him with a sweet smile. 

“Don't let’s spoil our evening,” she said, “by discussing 
America or Americans. I have been in Berlin several 
months and you see I am not going home very fast since 
this awful war started. Isn't it evidence sufficient to prove 
that my sympathies are with the Fatherland? You have 
just asked me to marry you and that is certainly something 
for serious thought. Wouldn’t it be better for us to wait 
some time? All of your time will be taken up at the war 
office and if you are called to the front I would not see you 
at all. I have been thinking that it is probably my duty to 
remain in Berlin and engage in war work of some kind.” 

Her remarks had the desired effect. They were now 
seated side by side on the sofa. He turned to her again and 
took her hand in his. For the moment he had forgotten his 
stern discipline and was pleading an undying love and again 
insisting that she marry him before he was called away. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


55 


For some time he continued to plead with her and she very 
skillfully managed to let him feel that she cared for him; 
but she argued that she did not think they should get mar¬ 
ried at the present time knowing that he would have to be 
away from her most of the time. 

Theresa was now satisfied that while he was very anxious 
to find out what she knew about the Americans in Berlin, 
he also cared too much for her to be overly persistent. She 
finally managed to change the conversation to a general con¬ 
sideration of the war. She asked him numerous questions 
and spoke in fluent terms of the valor of the German troops 
at the front. They were everywhere victorious he told her 
proudly, and Von Kluck would soon enter Paris, then France 
would be out of the war. She appeared to rejoice with him 
in the German victories. He had got up and was walking 
about the room restlessly making a great display of his 
pomp and pride. He stopped suddenly and looked at his 
wrist watch. It was after eleven o’clock. 

“Why,” he exclaimed, “I must be going, I had no idea it 
was so late and they expected me back an hour ago.” 

Theresa arose quickly from her seat and walked over to 
him. 

“I am so sorry you have to go so early,” she told him, “I 
thought this was to be our night.” 

She stood directly in front of him and looked up into his 
face with appealing eyes. 

He looked down at her, “Do you really care that much, 
Theresa?” he asked. 

“Oh,” she said, “please don’t go yet. You can stay just 
a little while longer.” 

He put his arm around her and drew her to him and as 
she turned her head away, he kissed her on the cheek. 

At that moment the telephone started ringing violently. 
He released her suddenly, as if he knew they were calling 
for him and in a moment he was told that the war office 
wanted him at the ’phone. He hurried into the hall and took 
the receiver from the man who bowed and disappeared. 

“Yes, this is Captain Heine,” she heard him say. “What 
is that—escaped about three hours ago—notify all the out¬ 
post about the city and I will be right up.” 

Theresa’s heart jumped for joy, and she could hardly 


56 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


control her emotions when he hurried back into the room 
to bid her good-night. 

“I am sorry,” she said, extending her hand, “but I know 
you have to go. Call me again the first opportunity/* she 
said, smiling at him as he went out the door. 


VII 


After he had gone Theresa went to her room and with¬ 
out turning on the light she walked over to the window and 
looked out into the darkness. Rain was no longer falling, 
the storm was over and all was quiet. In the glimmer of 
distant street lamps she could see the endless line of soldiers 
who heedless of the passing storm were still marching 
through the city. She lay down on the couch by the window 
and while the cool breeze blew upon her face and played 
with her soft golden hair, she cried herself to sleep. 

At exactly eight o’clock that evening Captain Heine 
alighted from an army motorcar in front of the house where 
Theresa was visiting, and at a safe distance behind another 
officer stopped his motorcycle and stepped to the ground 
and stood waiting. To a casual observer they looked exactly 
alike and either could easily be taken for Captain Heine. 
Rain had already started falling in big drops and the streets 
were almost deserted. Captain Heine spoke a few hurried 
instructions to his chauffeur and hurried into the house, 
as the car moved away. The man who had been watching 
saw him disappear into the house; then remounted his 
motorcycle and hurried away in another direction. 

It was five miles to the internment camp and the rain 
was now coming down in torrents, but the road was like a 
paved street and the rider knew every foot of it, so he did 
not slacken his speed until he was near the outpost. 

He dismounted and was pushing his machine along the 
road when a sharp command rang out in German, clear and 
distinct above the noise of the storm. 

'‘Halt, who comes there?” 

“An officer of the intelligence service,” was the reply in 
perfect German. 

“Advance and give the password,” said the sentinel, and 
Reaves advanced and spoke the word softly. 

The sentinel saluted and resumed his march back and 
57 


58 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

forth, guarding a space of a few yards, covering the main 
entrance to the camp. 

He was now inside the camp grounds but some distance 
from the main buildings. As he walked from the outer 
gate to the main building he noticed there were machine 
guns, with their ugly muzzles bristling in every direction. 
He continued bravely up the steps to the porch and as he 
started in the door another gruff voice called out, 

"Halt!" 

He stopped again. It seemed an hour before he was 
told to advance and give the password. As he passed 
through the door a sergeant confronted him and saluted. 

“I want to talk to Lord Cullen," he told the sergeant 
brusquely. 

"Yes, Herr Captain," replied the sergeant, "come this 
way, sir," and he started down the hall to show him which 
room Cullen occupied. 

Reaves was calm in spite of the great dangers which 
threatened him from every side and as he walked down the 
long hall his eyes were taking in the structure of the building, 
and his mind was working with a speed comparable to the 
flashes of lightning without. They stopped in front of a 
door. 

"This is his Lordship’s room, sir," the sergeant said as he 
again saluted and started away. 

Reaves caught sight of a switchboard on the wall and 
the thought occurred to him that in case of emergency he 
could come through the place in darkness himself, and as 
he put his hand on the doorknob he casually asked, 

"How about your electric lights, sergeant, are the fuses 
heavy enough to stand these terrific strokes of lightning?" 

"A fuse blew a while ago, sir; but it was soon fixed. 
Corporal Lenaire is looking after that, sir." 

"Well, keep your eye on things about here, sergeant," he 
told him in a commanding tone of voice, "while this storm 
rages is a good time to make a getaway, and I understand 
this American whom you call the ‘Shadow’ is going to try 
to help Lord Cullen make his escape from the camp; in 
fact," continued the supposed Captain Heine, "that is why 
I braved this storm and came out to look around a while," 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 59 

then after a moment, “What time do you chancre the guard, 
sergeant ?” 

“Nine o’clock, sir,” was the prompt reply. 

“All right, I’ll be around,” said Reaves as he passed inside 
the room. 

Lord Cullen, true to his military training in deference to 
an officer, arose from his seat when the supposed Captain 
Heine entered the room. In the dim light he did not at 
first get a full view of his visitor’s face. 

“Won’t you be seated, Captain Heine?” asked Lord Cul¬ 
len, trying to appear reconciled to his fate. 

The tall figure before him did not move or reply. His 
cap was pulled down low so as to almost hide his eyes and 
from the long military cloak, water was dripping to the 
floor. 

“Nasty night,” remarked the Englishman, as he raised his 
eyes to those gazing coldly upon him. Suddenly he took a 
step forward, searching the face before him. “My God,” 
he gasped half aloud, “is is really you, Reaves? How did 
you get in here? We will never get out alive,” he finished, 
half staggering back to his chair. 

In a second Reaves was standing over him. “Shut up,” 
he whispered, “and do as I tell you, quick; if you don’t want 
to rot in this camp.” 

While he was talking he took from under his military robe 
a full German uniform with regulation cap and leggings 
included. 

“Put this on quick,” he said as he thrust it at him. 

The other hesitated, but Reaves was not to be trifled with. 

He half pulled the Englishman out of his chair and started 
pulling off the clothes he was wearing. 

“We have only ten minutes,” he urged. 

Cullen by this time had gotten over his shock, and seeing 
that his friend was determined, he soon regained his confi¬ 
dence and in a few minutes he was transformed into a 
private in the German army, and in his ill-fitting uniform 
he looked like a real German soldier. 

They stood just inside the door listening. Outside the 
rain poured and loud claps of thunder shook the whole 
building but the lights were still shining everywhere. The 
easy, slow steps of the guard in the hall were disconcerting. 


6 o 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“Where is Lenaire; surely Gus’s son has not trapped us ?” 
thought Reaves. Minutes seemed hours, yet he could do 
nothing but wait. The corporal of the guard was heard 
assembling his men, preparatory to changing the guard. 
Frederick Reaves w T as distinctly a man of action and having 
to wait under such exciting conditions almost unnerved him. 
It was now five minutes past the time set, and Gus Lenaire’s 
son had not carried out his part of the arrangement by 
putting the place in darkness. The thunder seemed to get 
louder, and the buildings trembled. Suddenly there was a 
loud report, a quick flash and all was darkness. He opened 
the door and stepped into the hall. Everything was im¬ 
penetrable blackness. He took Lord Cullen by the arm and 
led him along the wall. They reached the main hallway lead¬ 
ing from front to the rear of the building. It was filled with 
smoke. The fire-bell sounded. They looked down the long 
hall toward the rear of the building and saw a little blaze. 
Guards from the front door and other places about him, 
deserted their post and ran to fight the fire. The way was 
now clear and they dashed out of the building. The sentinel 
had been changed which favored his chances, because he 
had come in alone; but now he had with him a man supposed 
to be a private in the German army. The outer guard was 
still between them and liberty. They hurried on and as 
they approached the outer gate another gruff voice called 
out of the darkness, 

“Halt, who goes there?” 

“Officer with his aide,” came the quick response. 

“Advance, aide first, and give the password,” said the 
voice from the darkness. 

Reaves whispered the password to the supposed private, 
watched him anxiously as he started forward. 

He had never, before that night, seen Lord Cullen in a 
situation where nerve and tact were required to get him 
past danger, so it was with a feeling of great apprehension 
that he listened for the outcome of the guard’s challenge, 
but in a moment he heard the guard say: “Pass on,” he 
knew then that the password had been whispered to him; 
but just as he decided the guard was through questioning 
Cullen and started forward himself he heard him ask him 
to what regiment he belonged. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


61 


There was silence for a minute, but the answer came, “I 
am on detached duty with the Captain for the present.” 

“Do you mean Captain Heine who came in a few minutes 
ago to see the English Lord ?” 

Reaves then knew the other guard had told him Captain 
Heine had entered the camp and he listened anxiously for 
Cullen’s reply to the guard’s question. 

“Yes, the officer with me here,” replied Cullen, looking 
back in the direction of where he had left the supposed 
Captain Heine. 

“Pass,” said the guard. 

Reaves walked up and gave the word. The guard held 
his gun at salute; he returned the salute and stepped across 
the deadline. 

When they were outside the gate they turned and looked 
to see if the fire had made any progress in the building. It 
had been extinguished and there was not a ray of light to 
be seen about the place. Reaves feeling easier now looked 
at the guard with a mischievous smile on his face, “Keep 
your eye clear tonight, my man,” he warned, “an American 
said he was going to liberate your most distinguished pris¬ 
oner, Lord Cullen, and if he succeeds the whole lot of you 
are liable to be court-martialed.” 


VIII 


A bright sun, undisturbed by the tragedies of war, shone 
over the city of Berlin the morning after the storm. There 
was just enough breeze blowing from the northwest to drive 
away the feeling of lassitude and dullness which prevailed 
before the heavy rain cooled the atmosphere. 

Miss Beeman hurried along the street towards the 
American Embassy. She wanted to find out what happened 
after she left Reaves the evening before. Frederick Reaves 
keeps his appointments, she thought to herself, or gets 
someone to keep them for him. Her attention was suddenly 
called to a newsboy. 

“Extra—extra—special extra,—” called out the boy, hur¬ 
rying along the street. 

She stopped, the boy handed her a newspaper. She took 
it and gave him a mark. The boy held out his hand again 
with the change in his palm, but she was standing still, 
gazing intently at the paper, appearing more like a statue 
than a human being. 

“Change Fraulein ” called out the boy. 

She waved him away without taking her eyes from the 
paper. The first headline read, “His Majesty's army is 
marching through Belgium,” but she did not notice the war 
news, her eyes were riveted on an item near the middle of 
the page. There had been a fire at the internment camp 
during the heavy storm the night before; lightning was sup¬ 
posed to have started the fire. Lord Cullen had escaped 
from the prison camp, while everything was in darkness 
which resulted from fuses being blown on the main switch¬ 
board. An American well known to the war office and 
the secret police is believed to have assisted the Englishman 
in making his escape. After reading the last sentence she 
looked up and smiled; then resumed her walk. 

At exactly the time Reaves was to meet Miss Rotherford 
at the embassy she walked in the door. Miss Rotherford 
was standing just inside and bowed as she said, “Good 

62 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 63 


morning, Miss Beeman.” The girl returned her greeting 
and walked over to where Miss Rotherford was standing. 
For a moment the two girls looked at each other, then Miss 
Rotherford said, 

“I see that Lord Cullen escaped from the internment camp 
last night.” 

“Yes,” replied Miss Beeman, looking in another direction. 

“How on earth did he ever do it? I thought the intern¬ 
ment camps were especially well guarded at all times.” 

“His Lordship must be a very clever man,” remarked the 
other girl guardedly. 

“You Germans seemed to have been outwitted this time,” 
continued Miss Rotherford still smiling. 

The girl before her looked out into the street and shook 
her head slowly. “It is a long way to the border,” she said, 
“and the news of his escape has been flashed all over the 
country.” 

Immediately the American girl’s face was troubled. She 
eyed Miss Beeman critically and remembering that she had 
been introduced to her by Mr. Reaves she remarked with a 
note of perturbation in her voice, 

“I am waiting here for Mr. Reaves, now; he promised 
to meet me here at this hour.” 

There was a feeling between the two girls that neither 
one of them wholly trusted the other. Each one was guessing 
just what the other knew about Frederick Reaves. Miss 
Rotherford, believing that she was talking to a German 
woman felt that she must be careful in her remarks, while 
Miss Beeman was keenly interested in Lord Cullen’s escape 
and knew that Frederick Reaves was the man who helped 
him to get away. She was also trying to figure out just what 
interest this American girl had in Reaves. 

She had to deliver Reaves’ message and she wondered if 
Miss Rotherford suspected the real truth, but feeling that 
Reaves knew what he was doing when he wrote the note 
and sent it to her by Gus she dismissed all doubts from her 
mind about the girl before her, and in that direct, self-confi¬ 
dent manner, which was one of her assets, she said, 

“Mr. Reaves will not be here, Miss Rotherford. He could 
not get in touch with you last night; so he sent me a message 
to meet you here this morning and tell you that circum- 


64 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


stances made it necessary for him to leave the city last night.” 

“Where is he now?” she asked, very much surprised. 

“Really, I do not know exactly,” was the indefinite reply. 

Miss Rotherford was thoughtful for a minute. This 
girl knows more than she cares to tell, she thought, and 
the idea ran through her mind that she, too, was trying to 
shield Reaves, so she decided on a bold stroke, and turning 
to face her, 

“Did you know Lord Cullen, Miss Beeman?” 

The girl smiled and nodded her head, and after a moment 
she raised her eyes and said almost in a whisper, 

“It doesn’t pay to know too much about Englishmen since 
England has declared war.” 

“Then what do you know of this man Reaves?” per¬ 
sisted Miss Rotherford, becoming a little incensed at the 
girl’s hesitancy in speaking freely to her. 

“Mr. Reaves,” she repeated slowly, seeing Miss Rother¬ 
ford was becoming irritated, and not knowing just what 
part she had in Reaves’ plans. 

“I have known him for quite a while—in a business way. 
He came to me with a letter of introduction from a friend in 
London. He is thoroughly dependable and a very remark¬ 
able man in handling diplomatic affairs.” 

Miss Rotherford eyed her a moment in silence, then her 
stern look gave way to a smile. She was convinced that 
although Frederick Reaves’ messenger would give her no 
definite information, she was nevertheless a friend of both 
Reaves and Lord Cullen. 

“Pardon me for annoying you with unnecessary questions, 
Miss Beeman, but I—er—believe I quite understand.” Then 
before Miss Rotherford had time to speak further the girl 
asked, 

“Is there anything I can do for you this morning, Miss 
Rotherford?” 

“Nothing at present, thank you; but I may need your 
assistance later.” 

“Call me if I can be of any assistance,” said Miss Beeman, 
as she started away. 

“I am leaving for London in a day or two and I want to 
thank you for your kindness during the past few days, and 
when you see Mr. Reaves tell him I am very sorry to have 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 65 


missed seeing him and I shall always remember what he 
did to help me in trying to get Americans home.” 

The girl looked at her with a knowing smile, “You,” she 
said, in a voice that those standing near could not hear, “may 
have lots of opportunities of thanking him yourself before 
I see him again.” 

Ulsa Beeman disappeared through the door and walked 
leisurely down to the street and was soon lost sight of in 
the crowds which thronged the streets. She had again re¬ 
sumed her work of ferreting out secrets of the German 
war office and turning the information over to the Allies. 

Miss Rotherford stood inside the open door and looked 
at her until she passed out of sight. Her face plainly showed 
that she was puzzled. A German girl loyal to an English¬ 
man at such a time, and at least a staunch friend of Mr. 
Reaves, an American. There was something back of it all 
she did not understand and true to the instinct of her sex, 
she determined to make another effort to solve the mystery. 

“I shall see what Theresa Busch knows about this,” she 
said to herself. She had promised to meet some Americans at 
the hotel that afternoon so there was no time better than 
the present. 


IX 


It was just twelve o’clock when Miss Rotherford rang 
the bell at the apartment where Theresa Busch was stopping. 
Theresa greeted her with a smile behind which her sup¬ 
pressed anxiety was plainly visible. 

“I am leaving in a day or two,” began Miss Rotherford, 
“and I wanted to see you again before leaving the city.” 

“I am glad you called,” Theresa replied and after a 
moment’s hesitation she asked rather casually, “How are 
things moving along at the embassy?” 

“As well as could be expected under the circumstances; 
most of the people are on their way home.” She glanced in 
another direction a moment then added, “Mr. Reaves left 
the city last night.” 

Theresa was almost startled; she flashed her eyes upon 
Miss Rotherford and a look of jealousy showed plainly upon 
her face. She, Miss Rotherford, was also interested in 
Frederick Reaves then, and she wondered to what extent. 

“Do you know that to be true?” she asked, hoping at the 
same time that it was true. 

“Yes, Miss Beeman told me this morning,” added Miss 
Rotherford. 

Theresa soon recovered her composure. She leaned over 
and whispered into the other’s ear, “We cannot talk here, 
the walls have ears; come with me to my room.” 

As they went down the long hall to Theresa’s room, Miss 
Rotherford was beginning to feel that she was surrounded 
with more mystery for which she saw no reason. She 
wanted to find out just what Frederick Reaves had to do 
with Lord Cullen’s escape, and she also wanted to know more 
about this pleasant, unassuming American anyway. Once 
inside the room Theresa motioned Miss Rotherford to a 
comfortable chair but she made the excuse that she had a 
headache and lay down on a couch by the window. 

It was a tense moment; these two American girls in a 
foreign country had just discovered that they were a little 

66 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 6 y 


curious about the same American man, and that same man 
had left the city the night before. Theresa was sure Miss 
Rotherford knew nothing of her affair with Reaves and 
while she knew Lord Cullen she had never heard his name 
associated with the girl in her room. She tried to hide her 
feeling of jealousy but Miss Rotherford was conscious of 
something in Theresa’s manner that she could not under¬ 
stand. The fact that neither girl knew of the other’s love 
affairs left room for doubt and misunderstanding. 

Miss Rotherford finally broke the long silence between 
them. 

‘'Miss Busch,” she said, looking mystified, “I don’t know 
that you can help me at all, but there is something I want to 
find out. What do you know about Frederick Reaves?” 

Theresa looked at her quickly, then sat upright on the 
couch. She had learned that it payed to be cautious in 
discussing private matters with strangers. 

“I am perfectly willing to help you in anyway I can, Miss 
Rotherford,” she replied, “but why do you ask me about 
Mr. Reaves?” 

“Because, when I was here to see you the other day I 
understood that you knew him, and I think he has done me 
a great favor; probably taken great personal risk just because 
I asked him; I want to find out if my surmise is correct; 
and if it is I shall forever have a tender feeling in my heart 
for him.” 

“Mr. Reaves is the kind of man who would do anybody 
a favor if he could,” put in Theresa, resenting Miss Rother- 
ford’s too kindly feelings for him. 

“He had an engagement to meet me at the embassy this 
morning and he sent Miss Beeman to tell me that he had to 
leave town unexpectedly last night and would not be there; 
but she simply would not tell me anything other than deliver 
his message. I am afraid, too, to talk to her freely because 
—well—I feel that every German who speaks to me is trying 
to find out something or suspects me of being English; but 
you being an American, I felt that I could talk to you.” 

Theresa looked at her for a moment; then asked, “Do 
you mind telling me the nature of the service you think Mr. 
Reaves rendered you?” 

“Certainly not, I believe he helped a friend of mine to 


68 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


escape from the city,” and fooking at her quickly, “do you 
know any English people here, Miss Busch?” 

“I knew quite a lot of them here before England declared 
war, but I guess they are all home by now; I certainly 
hope so anyway.” 

“Then you are in sympathy with England,” remarked Miss 
Rotherford. 

“No, I cannot say that exactly, but I should hate to see 
any of the English interned here in these horrid camps for 
the period of the war,” Theresa replied. 

“Were any of the English here friends of yours?” 

“Yes, I knew quite a number of people in the English set 
and most of them are safely home now; but there is one I 
am specially interested in, and I—I—think Mr. Reaves 
helped him to escape from the internment camp last night.” 

For a moment Theresa was silent thinking hard. She 
had heard Lord Cullen was a great friend of Reaves and 
she recalled that she had heard the Englishman’s name men¬ 
tioned in connection with an American heiress. 

“Do you mean Lord Cullen?” she asked, turning to face 
her visitor. 

Miss Rotherford gave a little start. This girl also knows 
him, she thought. She looked at Theresa appealingly, a 
little afraid yet to open her heart to a person of doubtful 
sympathies. 

Theresa was quick to notice the other’s troubled look of 
embarrassment and being convinced now that her real con¬ 
cern was not for Frederick Reaves, but Lord Cullen, she 
said, with an air of assurance, 

“I do hope they get across the border safely. They have 
been friends for a long time.” 

“Oh—you knew then—” exclaimed Miss Rotherford 
suddenly smiling. 

“I have met him,” returned the other and feeling now 
that she could trust this girl who at first appeared to be only 
interested in Frederick Reaves, she arose from her couch 
and walked over to her. Miss Rotherford had also arisen 
from her seat. Jealousy had vanished from Theresa’s face 
and they had now reached a basis of understanding and 
neither had further reason to doubt the other. The womanly 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 69 


instinct in both girls was plainly visible in their every atti¬ 
tude and their anxiety was a common one. 

“Miss Rotherford,” began Theresa, “I hope you will 
pardon my reluctance to answer your questions, but in these 
last few days I have been suspicious of everybody. One is 
almost afraid to talk to anybody. You ask me what I know 
about Frederick Reaves,” she said, lowering her voice, 
“Now that I trust you, I am going to tell you at least a part. 
I saw in the morning’s paper that Lord Cullen escaped from 
the camp last night and that an American was supposed to 
have been instrumental in his escape. From what I already 
knew and what you say there is no doubt that Mr. Reaves 
helped him to make his escape and they are at this moment 
making their way to the border.” 

“But,” broke in Miss Rotherford, “the papers stated that 
the man suspected of helping Lord Cullen was well known 
to the German secret service, and surely Mr. Reaves is not 
guilty of anything for which the German government would 
want to arrest him.” 

Theresa looked out the window across the park. It was 
filled with soldiers who had stopped to rest a few minutes 
in the shade of the trees, before resuming their march to the 
battlefront. At that moment she hated everybody who wore 
the German uniform because they might yet prevent Fred¬ 
erick Reaves from reaching a place of safety. She turned 
to face Miss Rotherford and nodded her head as she said 
very solemnly, 

“Yes, the secret police are after Frederick Reaves because 
—because—well you know he is a friend of Lord Cullen, 
and is trying to help him get out of the country. ,, 

“And that is what you make of it all; I am beginning to 
understand,” said Miss Rotherford. 

Theresa had turned her head from Miss Rotherford and 
her handkerchief was before her face when she replied in 
broken voice, 

“Yes, and I am so afraid something awful will happen to 
him.” 

Miss Rotherford went over and put her arm around her 
tenderly. “What is it that worries you, Theresa? I am 
sure Mr. Reaves and Lord Cullen will reach a place of 
safety,” she assured her. 


70 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


Theresa was no longer the self-possessed, courageous 
woman. Her emotions for the moment held complete sway 
over her mental and physical being. She put her head on 
Miss Rotherford’s shoulder and wept bitterly, while Miss 
Rotherford stroked her hair and spoke tender words of 
comfort to her. 

“I know/’ said Theresa, between sobs, “that I am the most 
miserable person in the world.” 

Miss Rotherford had now learned that Reaves was impli¬ 
cated in Lord Cullen’s escape and that Theresa was in love 
with him, but there was still an element of mystery about 
the whole affair which she could not figure out. Theresa 
had begun to regain her composure; she wiped her eyes and 
said, 

“I know you think I am a perfect baby, but I have been 
through so much these past few days, and you seem to 
understand.” 

“Our anxiety,” replied Miss Rotherford, “seems to be of 
the same nature; but I am thinking of your friend Mr. 
Reaves, he must be a wonderful person, and I shall never 
forget what he has done for Lord Cullen, though I must 
confess that there is something about him that borders on 
the mysterious. He reminds me of the stories I have heard 
about-a young American diplomat who seems to be able 
at will to vanish into a shadow. This mysterious person 
is supposed to be the unknown head of a great secret service 
and seems to know everything that is going on in the world 
before it happens.” 

“What stories have you heard concerning this young 
diplomat?” asked Theresa, suddenly becoming very inter¬ 
ested. 

“Well, they say he knows the secrets of every govern¬ 
ment in Europe, but no one seems to have ever seen him. 
He must be a spirit who appears when and where needed, 
and vanishes into the air when danger threatens. I thought 
since what happened last night that Mr. Reaves might be 
one of his men. Why, I shall never forget when I first met 
him here, there seemed to be something very unusual about 
him—I hardly know what—that impressed me very much. 
Anyway I feel that our two friends will reach a place of 
safety somehow.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


7i 


Theresa picked up her gold hand-bag and started to open 
it, then put it down again. She felt that the girl before her 
wanted to know more about Frederick Reaves than she had 
told her and she resented her inquisitive attitude, but as she 
looked into Miss Rotherford’s appealing face she knew that 
it was not mere curiosity that prompted the question, but 
anxiety concerning Lord Cullen, the man she loved. 

There may be a strong feeling of jealousy or animosity 
between two women who are in love with the same man, 
but it may be said with little chance of contradiction and 
with all glory to the sex, that every woman whose face is 
chilled with anxiety about the man she loves, has a large 
measure of sympathy and understanding from every other 
member of her sex. 

The two women stood facing each other, a bond of sym¬ 
pathy made them friends. They no longer distrusted each 
other. They had one desire; a single hope. Their respective 
friends were hunted men. Somewhere in the human jungle 
of that enemy country they were struggling toward a place 
of safety. They could not go to them nor send them aid, 
and they must of necessity remain for some time restless 
victims of that dreaded disease of the human soul, which 
we call anxiety. Theresa looked at Miss Rotherford for a 
time in silence and then answered her question. 

‘'Frederick Reaves,” she said, with an air of pride, “ac¬ 
complishes what he undertakes, but this time,” she contin¬ 
ued, looking away with tears again in her eyes, “it is differ¬ 
ent. He is matching wits with the combined forces of the 
greatest secret service the world has ever known.” 

To Miss Rotherford the mystery deepened; there was 
something behind it all that bordered on the uncanny. She 
was a little irritated at Theresa’s reluctance to enlighten her, 
yet she did not doubt what she had been told nor that 
Theresa’s cause for worry was even greater than her own. 
She looked at Theresa intently for a moment, then said: 

“There is something else worrying you, tell me what it is, 
won’t you? Possibly I could help you.” 

“Oh—I cannot, I cannot,” exclaimed Theresa, as she 
almost fell across the bed sobbing. 

After a short while she sat up on the side of the bed and 


72 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


wiped the tears from her swollen eyes. The other girl gazed 
at her still mystified. 

“I know I am a perfect fool, Miss Rotherford, but you 
don’t understand and I cannot tell you. I am not always 
like this, but my shattered nerves have simply given away.” 

“You must calm yourself, both the men have probably 
been in just as dangerous situations before.” 

Her courage reassured Theresa, who got up and walked 
over to the mirror and began to powder her face and 
straighten her hair. 

“Miss Rotherford,” she spoke suddenly, “if you will go 
to Paris and inquire at the American or British Embassy, 
I think you will hear something of our friends; if they have 
gotten to a place of safety they will surely know it at one 
of these places.” 

“I intended starting for London tomorrow or the next 
day providing I can get away.” 

“That fits in nicely,” went on Theresa, who picked up the 
point immediately, “you can get to London almost as quickly 
via Paris; possibly in a shorter time now, and if you see 
anything of our runaways,” she said with a forced smile, 
“just tell Frederick Reaves that Theresa still remembers, and 
that she prayed hard that he and Lord Cullen might reach 
France safely. If you succeed in delivering the message, I 
will learn of it shortly afterwards.” 

“How on earth can he send you a message?” queried Miss 
Rotherford. 

Theresa looked at her, she was plainly bewildered but 
Theresa smiled at her perplexity and tossed her head to one 
side, eyeing her knowingly. Miss Rotherford started to speak, 
but Theresa broke in with— 

“No questions now, my dear; just go as quickly as you can 
and on your way; ask no questions, but more important 
still,” she cautioned, pointing her finger at her and for the 
moment becoming very serious, “answer none.” 

“I shall make an effort to start for Paris sometime 
tomorrow.” 

“I might help you,” remarked Theresa, but after a 
moment’s thought she shook her head, “no—it would not 
do for us to be seen together.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 73 

The other looked at her for a moment then picked up 
her handbag. 

“I understand,” she said, as she moved towards the door. 
But she really understood nothing except that Lord Cullen 
and Frederick Reaves had ventured on an extremely danger¬ 
ous mission and that probably neither Theresa nor she would 
ever see the man they loved again. She extended her hand. 
Theresa took it; both girls stood looking into each other’s 
eyes through tears in their own. They embraced in silence. 
Miss Rotherford slowly released herself. Theresa turned 
her face away and heard the door close and receding steps 
down the hall. 


IX 


After getting past the guard at the outer gate, Frederick 
Reaves and Lord Cullen left the internment camp on the 
motorcycle. The storm had almost spent itself, but rain was 
still falling and the roads were filled with water. Both men 
were drenched through but they had no time to lose, and so 
made no attempt to secure dry clothing. Every minute 
lessened their chances of escape and they started immediately 
on their long journey to the French border. They knew that 
the news of their escape would be flashed to every frontier 
and they must depend largely on their wits to get them 
through to safety. In the darkness they did not know what 
road to take, but after they were out of the city limits 
they took the first road south, depending on general direction. 
Often Reaves would alight at a fork in the road and take 
from his pocket the little compass and walk around in front 
of the headlight to see which direction the hand pointed; 
then go back, take his seat and start off again at a furious 
rate of speed. Once they stopped a convoy of trucks to get 
some gasoline. 

“Where are you bound for?” asked the officer in charge 
of the convoy, while a soldier was filling the tank with petrol. 

“We are intelligence men on our way from Berlin to 
Metz,” replied Reaves. 

“Your business must be urgent to make you face this 
storm,” remarked the officer. 

“Yes,” replied Reaves, “an Englishman escaped from the 
internment camp and is headed in that direction. I shall try 
and be there when that gentleman arrives.” 

“I see,” said the officer. 

Lord Cullen, still dressed in the uniform of a private in 
the German army came up pushing the motorcycle. 

“AH ready, private?” asked Reaves sharply. 

On being assured that the tank was well filled, Reaves 
turned to the officer, “Many thanks for the gasoline, sir, and 
I hope you won’t get stuck in the mud.” 

The officer saluted and mounted a truck beside the driver 
74 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


75 


On into the night sped these two men, making for the 
border. Overhead, stars were beginning to peep through the 
rapidly disappearing clouds. The darkness was less dense 
and the road could be faintly seen ahead of them. Reaves 
looked at his watch. It was too early for the break of day. 
Looking backward the moon was seen struggling to get 
through the clouds. They were making good time, hardly a 
word passed between them. Far ahead they could see a 
glimmer of lights on the horizon. 

“What is that ahead ?” asked Lord Cullen. 

Reaves appeared not to hear but the car seemed to lunge 
forward with greater speed and the lights ahead continued 
to become brighter. They stopped on the summit of a hill. 
Below in the distance they saw plainly thousands of small 
lights which seemed to wink at them. To the left the sky 
was beginning to show colors; red, gold, purple, and blue. 

“Where are we?” asked the Englishman. 

“We are looking down upon the city of Leipsig,” replied 
Reaves without turning his head. “It was for this high 
ground that Napoleon fought so hard during the great battle 
of Leipsig.” 

“And if he had won,” remarked the Englishman, “the map 
of the world would have been different today, and England 
would have—” 

“Don’t talk to me about England,” broke in Reaves, a 
little peevish from his experiences of the night. 

“But,” protested the other, “aren’t you part English blood; 
aren’t you in sympathy with England in this war?” 

“My dear friend,” replied Reaves, “I am first an Ameri¬ 
can, and America is not at war with any nation. I may be 
about one-tenth English blood, but at this moment I am 
about seventy-five per cent neutral; and the other twenty- 
five per cent is sympathy not for England, but for someone 
left behind in Berlin.” 

“I see,” said the other with a feeling of understanding. 

Reaves had not told his friend that he knew Miss Rother- 
ford, or of his affair with Theresa. Therefore, his friend 
jumped at the conclusion that it was some German girl to 
whom he referred. 

“No, you don’t see,” replied Reaves with a smile, “you 
are still wandering about in the darkness.” 


76 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

It was now beginning to get light, far in the distance 
beyond them lay the city, with its outlines plainly visible in 
the gray dawn. Looking towards the east they could see 
that the sun was coming up and rapidly beginning to spread 
its rays over the plains. On their right was a dense forest 
which Reaves surveyed with zealous eyes. 

“Which way now ?” inquired Lord Cullen. 

Reaves pointed his finger in the direction of the dense 
forest and looked at him. “In there/’ he said, “until dark¬ 
ness comes again.” 

The Englishman grinned as he looked in the direction 
his friend was pointing and nodded his head in assent, then 
they started in the direction of the woods, pushing the motor¬ 
cycle along in front of them. 

“We shall get pretty hungry before night,” remarked 
Cullen. 

“My dear man,” replied Reaves, “we are in the midst of 
war and we have chosen not to leave the enemy’s country 
in palatial cars with the luxury of elegant buffet service. I 
fancy we will have a refreshing nap while the hot August 
sun pours in upon us through the trees and the birds with 
the music of their voices try to keep time with our snoring; 
and besides I brought along a couple of pieces of chocolate.” 

They continued on until they reached the thickest part of 
the forest where they picked out a grassy spot by a small 
stream which trickled by almost noiselessly. There they 
raked together some leaves and with some stones over which 
their blouses were spread for pillows, they lay down side 
by side, and being weary from their long journey they were 
soon fast asleep. Once in the afternoon, they were awakened 
by a noise like the cracking of underbrush. Reaves sat up 
and listened. The sound was unmistakable. Someone was 
walking in the woods nearby and was coming in their 
direction. “Discovered,” he uttered softly to himself. As 
he peered through the underbrush he saw two men in uni¬ 
form, they were holding a conversation not a hundred yards 
away. He waited, watching their every move. One of them 
commenced to write on a small piece of paper which he 
held in his hand. The other turned around and looked 
through an instrument mounted on a tripod. He smiled; 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 77 

they were German engineers, probably surveying a site for 
a camp. 

The sun went down just as it had come up in the morning, 
amid a cloud of purple and gold. Reaves reached over and 
touched his friend, who awoke with a start and looked 
around him half bewildered. 

“Your Lordship has slept well on your improvised couch,” 
said Reaves looking at him. 

“Such is fate,” said the other, running his hands over his 
face and rising to his feet. 

Reaves took from his pocket a little map and spread it 
out upon the ground saying that he wanted to study the roads 
a little before it got dark. The Englishman leaned over the 
map and began to ply him with questions as he lay stretched 
full length upon the ground. 

“Which way were they going? How far did he think 
they would travel that night—?” 

Reaves could not stand interference while he worked out 
plans to carry out one of his schemes. He would always in 
some way make that fact plain to the person interfering with 
the workings of his mind. He looked up at his friend seri¬ 
ously. There was silence for a minute. 

“Listen, my good friend,” he said ironically, “you left a 
girl in Berlin who is very much distressed at your present 
plight, think of her and leave this map to me.” 

The Englishman jerked his head up; he was both offended 
and surprised. What did Reaves know about Miss Rother- 
ford and her being in Berlin ?—he had never called her name 
to him, yet from the way he spoke, he certainly knew about 
her and he wondered how much he really did know about 
this American girl friend of his. “Ah,” he said to himself, 
nodding his head, “I have it; he spoke of sympathy for 
someone left in Berlin. He, too, is probably in love with 
Miss Rotherford.” The thought did not please him. He 
was under many obligations to this man who was trying so 
hard to get him out of the enemy’s country. Probably he had 
been foolish to allow this American to persuade him to 
attempt this rash flight from Germany. Then his thoughts 
went back to England, and his post at the war office. Any¬ 
thing is better than rotting in that camp, he finally decided. 


78 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


He was still gazing toward the sunset when Reaves slapped 
him on the back and said with an air of confidence: 

“My dear fellow, forget your troubles; we’ll get out of 
this some way. Let us be going.” 

They made a detour and came back to the main road 
beyond the city. They were now headed straight for the 
French border at a point near the western boundary of 
Lorraine, but many miles lay between them and safety. 
After traveling for several hours they made a short stop to 
rest. It was a moonless night of a thousand stars, which 
seemed to wink at them and wish them success on their 
dangerous venture. Several times during the night they 
met troops on the march and once they had stopped to re¬ 
plenish the supply of gasoline. Long after midnight the 
stars began to show dimly and Reaves had slackened speed, 
when they were suddenly halted by a sentry. 

“Hell,” muttered Reaves between his teeth. 

He dismounted and leaving the car in charge of Cullen he 
walked toward the sentry until he was halted a second time. 

“Who comes there?” asked the sentry in a gruff voice. 

“An officer going to the front,” replied Reaves. “Call the 
officer of the guard,” he ordered in an angry voice. 

The sentry did as he was ordered and while he was waiting 
he walked back to where Lord Cullen was standing beside 
the car. 

“It will take pure bluff to get us by here,” he said solemnly. 

“I am sure of it, but I am wide awake and all here,” 
replied the Englishman without moving. 

It was a tense moment; everything depended on the inter¬ 
view with the man in charge of the guard and both men 
fully realized that fact. Reaves looked at his watch and 
then at the speedometer, it was 3:10 and they had traveled 
190 miles. 

“We are near Frankfort,” he remarked, returning the 
watch to his pocket. 

They could distinguish the outline of a figure approaching 
and Reaves started off to meet him. 

“Are you the officer of the guard?” inquired Reaves as 
the two men stopped facing each other. 

“I am sergeant of the guard, sir,” replied the man who had 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


79 


recognized an officer’s uniform and was standing at atten¬ 
tion, saluting. 

Reaves returned the salute and the sergeant dropped his 
hand and stood at attention, looking every inch a soldier of 
the overtrained German caste. 

“Have you been told to look out for anyone specially 
tonight?” Reaves asked. 

“Yes, sir,” replied the sergeant, “we were notified that an 
English lord escaped from the internment camp near Berlin 
early last night and was headed this way, but we have not 
seen him, sir.” 

“Well,” said Reaves, “I am of the secret service, and the 
man is somewhere in this neighborhood at the present time. 
He was at last accounts headed for Frankfort, and I am 
trying to get there by the time he arrives.” 

He made a move as if he was leaving, then turned to the 
sergeant again. 

“Is this the best road to Frankfort?” he asked. 

“Yes, sir, go straight through, but there are a lot of 
guards, sir, I had better give you the password for the 
night.” Reaves leaned over and the sergeant whispered 
something into his ear, then stepped back and saluted and 
again stood at attention until Reaves disappeared into the 
darkness. 

He walked leisurely back to where he had left Lord Cullen 
with the motorcycle. 

“This is too easy,” he said as they started off through the 
camp. 

They made their way through unnoticed by the soldiers on 
duty at that time of the night, only being stopped once by a 
guard, and that was at the exit from the camp. 

“We have no time to lose,” he told the Englishman as he 
stepped on the accelerator when they struck the high road 
leading to Frankfort. 


X 


The moon had come up and the straight road was visible 
for some distance ahead of them. The cool breezes of night 
were invigorating and helped to keep up their spirits as they 
sped through the countryside. When they came in sight of 
the city they stopped at a road crossing. Reaves climbed 
down from his seat and went up to the sign board. The 
moon was behind him and he could plainly read what was 
written thereon. After looking at the sign a minute he came 
back and took his seat, and they started off again turning 
sharply to the right. After going a few miles he turned to 
the left again. They had dodged the city of Frankfort and 
were again in the open country near the river Maine. They 
did not cross the river but instead they turned down the right 
bank and in another hour they were in sight of the junction 
of the Maine and Rhine rivers. It had now begun to get 
light, the sun would soon be up, and they must decide 
whether to continue on their journey in broad daylight or 
again seek a hiding place until darkness came again. 

They stopped on a hill which commanded a view of the 
country for miles around, then far down the beautiful valley 
of the Rhine, church steeples and roofs of buildings could be 
distinguished in the rapidy approaching day. It was the 
city of Weisbaden. To the left lay the junction of the two 
rivers, just below them the river flowed by, making soft 
music which floated up to them on the still morning air. 
A long bridge led across the stream to the city of Mainz. It 
was a wonderful view for the eye of an artist, but the two 
travelers had no time for thinking of the beauties and won¬ 
ders of nature. They stood on the little eminence in the 
road and looked around them for several minutes without 
speaking. Finally Reaves stood still gazing across the 
bridge at the city and the country beyond. 

“What now ?” asked Cullen, who had by this time complete¬ 
ly surrendered his point of view, and followed blindly the 


80 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


81 


mysterious daredevil who had brought him this far without 
being caught. 

“We shall continue our journey,” answered Reaves, “and 
we are going across that bridge and through the city,” he 
continued looking at his friend while he pointed his finger 
in the direction he intended going. 

At that early hour only few people were about the streets 
of the town other than men in uniform, and they attracted 
but little attention as they passed along the main street. 
They stopped at an eating place where they procured coffee 
and sandwiches. When they came out several soldiers were 
standing around the motorcycle looking at the license and 
examining it generally, but they all saluted and dispersed 
when Reaves appeared in officer’s uniform. 

“I hope we eat our next meal in France,” he said as they 
started off again. 

“Pray God we may, this blooming business is getting on 
my nerves,” replied the Englishman. 

“Cheer up, old top, it hasn’t been half bad so far,” and 
after a pause, “but there may be breakers ahead.” 

Their journey was uninterrupted until they had reached 
the city limits, where they found a lone guard walking 
slowly back and forth across the road along which they had 
to pass. On seeing him Reaves leaned back and spoke to 
Cullen. “It looks like trouble,” he said, “and if so, here is 
where the first American soldier enters the war on the side 
of the Allies.” He looked around for other guards. There 
were none to be seen, but some distance away, he saw a tent 
in the edge of the woods. He stopped when the guard called 
“halt,” and dismounted and started forward slowly at the 
same time motioning Cullen to push the car on up closer. 

“What do you mean by stopping an officer this way?” 
asked Reaves trying to appear offended. 

“There is a camp out here a little piece, sir, and the 
soldiers go in and out of town this way, and there are spies 
about, too, sir.” 

There was a moment’s silence. “Do your orders say that 
you must stop officers?” asked Reaves, looking at him seri¬ 
ously. 

“My orders are to challenge all comers and to examine 


82 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

all passes of officers and privates, sir, and I shall obey 
orders.” 

“Have you a pass, sir ?” he asked holding his gun in posi¬ 
tion for immediate use. 

In times of great danger Reaves’ mind worked with 
lightning rapidity. Without hesitation he reached in his 
pocket and took out several papers and started looking them 
over as if trying to find his pass. Lord Cullen had left the 
motorcycle a few feet away with the engine still running and 
had started creeping up behind the guard. Reaves was 
watching Cullen and at the proper moment he handed the 
guard a paper and just as he started to unfold it, Cullen 
struck him a swift blow on the jaw. The man fell several 
feet away and as he went backwards his gun went into the 
air and fell some distance away from him. 

When men are closely associated, even for a short period 
of time, they soon learn each other’s methods of doing 
things; the trend of thought and just about what the other 
will do under certain circumstances. It was this feeling 
between Reaves and Cullen that made it possible for them 
to dispose of the guard without giving him an excuse to 
call help. It was the only thing to do under such circum¬ 
stances, though the act itself was repulsive to both of them. 
It was that same mutual understanding that prompted their 
action immediately afterwards. In a second and without 
speaking a word both men were in their seats and on their 
way. Luck had been with them since leaving Berlin, but 
now it would be different, they knew they would be dis¬ 
covered and followed. In a short time the sentry stood up, 
rubbed his jaw and called for help, and before they were 
out of sight on the long stretch of straight road they heard 
shots; and bullets whistled by or cut their way through the 
bushes on the roadside. 

As they turned a curve in the road Lord Cullen looked 
back and saw another motorcycle swerve into the road and 
start in pursuit. The race was on, and while Reaves knew 
they had taken the right road he also knew that the news 
of their encounter with the guard would be flashed to the 
towns ahead of them and they dare not keep to the main 
road. He looked at the speedometer; they were making 
seventy miles an hour and the motor would do no more. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 83 


On they sped and each time they looked back the car behind 
was a little closer. An occasional bullet would whiz by their 
heads. 

“They are gaining on us,” remarked Cullen calmly. The 
race had lasted for some time when they came to a sharp 
curve in the road. Reaves turned into the woods and stopped 
the car behind a clump of bushes, where they could not be 
seen. They stood and watched the other car pass by and 
continue on down the road. 

“Luck is with us again,” remarked Reaves, “but we must 
not lose any time.” 

“Where are we going now?” asked Cullen. 

“I haven’t the least idea,” replied Reaves, “but we shall 
leave the car here and make it on foot through the woods.” 

They hurried along and were soon out of sight in the dense 
forest. The underbrush had not dried from the night’s 
moisture and the sound of their feet could hardly be heard 
in the stillness of the morning. They knew nothing of the 
depth of the forest nor the country beyond, but were deter¬ 
mined to give their pursuers some trouble in finding them. 
Reaves would stop occasionally and take out his little pocket 
compass and look at it until the hands pointed steadily, then 
continue the walk through the forest. Not a breath of air 
seemed to be stirring and the heat was becoming oppressive. 
They stopped and drank some water from a small stream. 

The Englishman looked around him then turning to 
Reaves he exclaimed— 

“Lost.” 

“Better lost in a German forest than resting in a German 
prison camp, my friend,” replied Reaves looking at him with 
a grin. 

“How will we ever get out of here?” asked Cullen. 

“We may never get out,” replied Reaves, looking straight 
ahead with a serious expression on his face, “but we are 
going to make an effort.” 

“Of course we must not give up without a fight,” said the 
Englishman. They decided to rest a bit and think the 
situation over and took seats on the trunk of a fallen tree. 
As they sat there silently, they heard the noise of a motor. 
It was not very far distant. The noise became more distinct. 
Sitting there in the silence of the great forest the two men 


84 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

looked at each other. An aeroplane passed over their heads, 
followed soon by others. 

“What do you know about these German planes?” asked 
Reaves. 

“I was connected with the air ministry in London for 
several months and we managed to secure an engine of their 
latest type. I think I could fly any of their machines.” 

Reaves looked at him quickly, then he was again lost in 
thought. For a few minutes they sat quietly enjoying a 
much needed rest, then Reaves got up and started through 
the woods in the direction of where they had first heard the 
noise. Lord Cullen soon followed at some distance behind. 
They came to the edge of the forest where they could see 
the open space beyond. In a field they saw a number of 
buildings and a number of aeroplanes about the field. It 
was a school for aviators. The two men held a few minutes’ 
conversation. 

“You see, we have to take desperate chances,” said Reaves 
looking at his friend seriously. 

“All right,” replied the Englishman. “We cannot stay 
here, and I am ready for anything that promises a way 
out.” 

There were a number of soldiers about but no one seemed 
to notice them as they emerged from the woods wearing their 
German uniforms. For some time they stood about looking 
at the different machines, watching the young aviators in 
their trial flights, some went up alone, others with an in¬ 
structor. A bugle sounded and most of the officers and men 
went off to a large assembly hall to listen to a lecture on 
the minute details of handling an aeroplane. Some of the 
young pilots stayed with their planes, continuing their work 
of making adjustments and oiling up their engines. One 
man out a little distance from the others seemed to be 
getting his plane ready to take the air. Reaves sauntered 
over to where he was testing his motor. 

“Having trouble, Lieutenant?” he asked in German. 

“Had a little engine trouble coming over from Mannheim 
this morning, sir,” replied the lieutenant. “The plane hasn’t 
been in use much recently and the engine was a little stiff, 
but I think she will go all right now. Since war has been 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 85 


declared we need every plane we can put in use,” continued 
the lieutenant. 

“There is no doubt about that,” replied Reaves, and after 
a moment, “are you going towards the border this morning ?” 

“Not until this afternoon, sir. I am just going up for a 
short flight now to test her out.” 

Reaves stepped up closer and appeared to be looking over 
the machine as he asked— 

“Do you think she is good for a long flight now?” 

“Yes, Captain, good for two or three hundred miles.” 

“That’s fine. I believe you have learned something about 
these planes.” 

“I have made a thorough study of every type used in the 
service, sir.” 

Lord Cullen had come up and was standing a few feet 
away on the other side of the plane. The engine had been 
started and the propeller was revolving slowly. Reaves 
looked across the wide field, a motorcycle was approaching 
at terrific speed. He looked back at the lieutenant. 

“I have nothing particularly to do here for a few minutes,” 
he said. “I think I shall go up with you, if you don’t mind.” 

“Surely Captain, I will be glad to have you,” replied the 
lieutenant, and Reaves climbed in the seat behind him. 

As the plane glided off, Lord Cullen was also swinging on 
and climbed in beside Reaves unobserved by the pilot whose 
time was fully occupied in getting the plane into the air. 
They started off nicely the engine hitting on every cylinder, 
and were soon up in the air headed directly south and sailing 
smoothly on the still morning air; then the pilot turned his 
head and glanced behind him. He was taken so completely 
by surprise that for the moment he forgot his engine. The 
plane wavered in the air. He had an extra passenger and 
Reaves, the supposed captain, was leaning over pointing a 
revolver directly at his head. 

“Keep straight ahead if you value your life,” commanded 
Reaves with a cold, stern voice. 

The pilot automatically obeyed the order and with a few 
swift movements of his hands and feet the plane was soon 
righted and they were flying smoothly again. Reaves looked 
over the side of the plane back at the camp. They were 
fully fifteen hundred feet above the ground. There was a 


86 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


commotion at the camp; the motorcycle he had observed ap¬ 
proaching as they left had arrived, and another plane was 
taking the air. He leaned over towards the pilot again. 

“We are sorry to bother you, Lieutenant, but we have to 
get across the border this morning and when you land us 
safely on French soil, I will guarantee that you will be 
allowed to come back unmolested ” 

The German had recovered from his surprise. He turned 
his head backward, facing the man with a revolver in his 
hand. 

“I will never take you two spies across the border,” he 
said. 

“Then you die with us,” replied Reaves coldly and he 
meant every word of it. 

They were now several miles from the aviation field and 
far in the rear could be seen a mere speck in the air which 
seemed to be standing still. They looked at it frequently and 
it soon began to get larger. 

“They are gaining on us,” remarked Lord Cullen with 
perfect composure. 

They both looked forward; in that direction was France 
and safety. The sky was perfectly clear, there was no mist 
or smoke to obstruct the vision. Far ahead and a little to 
their left they could distinguish the dull outline of a city. 

“There is Metz,” said Reaves, “at this rate we will be 
across in a little more than a half hour.” 

The Englishman shook his head sullenly. “If I were in the 
pilot’s seat,” he said, “I would feel more comfortable.” 

Reaves understood what he meant. The pilot had said he 
would never take them across the border. He looked at 
Cullen and their eyes met, it was a critical moment. 

“I would to God you were in the pilot’s seat,” said 
Reaves. 

They again looked to the rear; the speck in the air had 
now become the full outline of a plane which was gaining 
on them rapidly. Suddenly the speed of their own slackened 
and the engine began to miss. Reaves turned to the pilot. 

“Give her gas,” he ordered. 

“Tank is empty,” answered the pilot. 

Reaves looked at Cullen who listened to the engine a 
minute in silence, then said: 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 87 


“He is right, the engine is missing because she isn’t get¬ 
ting sufficient petrol.” 

“Remember,” said Reaves to the pilot, “you will pay for 
this with your life, if you are not telling the truth.” The 
pilot did not answer. 

They were over a small patch of woods and had glided 
downward until they were just above the treetops. The 
plane suddenly took a nose dive and fell with a crash. The 
pilot in trying to jump was struck by a limb of a tree which 
tore a great hole in his chest. Reaves and Cullen stuck to 
the plane and only received minor injuries. They climbed 
out of the wreckage and went back to the pilot who was still 
conscious. He made an attempt to draw his pistol but 
Reaves caught his hand and took the weapon away from 
him. The pilot realized that he was fatally hurt but he looked 
at them with a smile. 

“I—I let the gas out of the tank purposely,” he said 
weakly—and then hardly above a whisper—“I am—dying as 
a soldier of the Fatherland should die.” 

Reaves handed the aviator’s revolver to Cullen and looked 
back at the injured man. He was lying with his legs bent back 
under his body and blood was pouring from the great hole 
in his chest. He stretched him out upon the ground and was 
trying to make his head more comfortable when the dying 
man opened his eyes again. 

“You outwitted me, Mr. Reaves. We were notified that 
you were headed this way and we were looking for you.” 

Reaves looked down at the dying man quickly, his eyes 
were half-closed, but his lips were moving and he was trying 
hard to speak. With a last dying effort he managed to 
utter a few more words, though they were hardly audible. 

“I didn’t know that America was at war with—with the 
Fatherland,” he said. 

The last words of the dying aviator smote Reaves like a 
thunderbolt; for a moment he reeled in his tracks; he was 
stunned. At that time America had no thought of taking 
any part in the great European conflict, and here he was an 
American citizen helping an Englishman to escape from 
Germany and his own plans more than those of Lord Cullen 
had caused the death of this brave German soldier. He was 
suddenly brought back to himself by the sharp report of a 


y 


88 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

shot from a revolver. He quickly looked around him. Lord 
Cullen was nowhere to be seen. The noise from the motor 
of the plane which had been following was no longer heard. 
Other shots rang out clearly through the morning air and he 
suddenly realized what it all meant. Their pursuers had 
landed and Cullen had engaged the flyers in mortal combat. 

Cullen knew that killing was not in Reaves’ code except 
when absolutely necessary. With him, it was different. 
England had declared war, and the German and British 
armies were in a death grapple at that moment along the 
border, and if he was caught he knew it was the firing squad 
f or him. 

Reaves snatched his revolver from his pocket and ran out 
into the open field. What he saw was sickening, but made 
his heart leap with admiration for Cullen. One of the Ger¬ 
mans was lying limp across the side of the plane, a smoking 
revolver had just dropped from his hand and was lying upon 
the ground. He had used his plane for a barricade but his 
aim had been bad, while that of the Englishman had been 
deadly accurate. Lord Cullen and the other German were 
rolling on the ground pounding each other with their fists. 
Reaves hurried to them, and just as he arrived the German 
was drawing a knife from its sheath. The Englishman had 
been wounded and the German had him down and was pre¬ 
paring to finish him. Reaves caught the hand as it started to 
make the final stroke. He gave the arm a quick wrench and 
the knife dropped from the hand as the aviator rolled over 
in agony. 

Lord Cullen was soon on his feet again. Blood and dirt 
covered his face and he walked with a limp. He was quickly 
beside the plane. The man whom he had shot had not moved. 
He lifted him from across the plane and stepped into the 
pilot’s seat. The engine had been left running. Reaves 
climbed in the seat behind him and as they glided off 
smoothly he turned his head and looked back at the two 
soldiers, one was lying still the other was scuffling to get 
on his feet. 

When they had climbed to a considerable height, Cullen 
looked back over his shoulder. “We are going over Metz, 
take a look at the fortifications as we pass,” he shouted in 
his companion’s ear. Reaves turned his head and glanced in 


t 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 89 

the direction of the city with its great fortifications defying 
the world; then his thoughts went back to what the dying 
aviator had said while he was alone with him in the little 
patch of woods. He had not known that America was at 
war with the Fatherland. The soldier’s dying words left an 
indelible impression and he could not forget them. Leaning 
forward so Cullen could hear he yelled: 

“Turn a little to the right, and we will be headed straight 
for Verdun. I have had enough of Germany for the 
present.” 

There was no answer but in a few minutes the current of 
air changed on his face and he knew they were headed for 
Verdun. They sailed on in silence. In another thirty minutes, 
thought Reaves, we will be flying over French soil; but how 
bitter cold it was without proper clothing. 

At that time—the beginning of the war—there were but 
few French planes patroling that section of the front, most 
of them had been ordered to Belgium, and the western sec¬ 
tion of the French border where Germany was rapidly push¬ 
ing back the French and the small contingent of British 
which had at that time arrived in France. 

As they passed over the border, Reaves, looking earthward 
through a pair of field glasses which he had found in the 
seat when they started their flight could see the patrols of 
both the German and French sides marching back and forth. 
A few shots were fired at the German plane as they came 
over French soil, but they did no damage except cut a few 
small holes in the fabric of the wings. It was before the 
development of the anti-aircraft gun and the heavy artillery 
did not fire on them as they passed. 

The hot August sun had gotten far up in the heavens 
and its rays glittered on the bright metal parts of the plane. 
Not a cloud could be seen to obstruct the view on the horizon. 
In front of them and in their direct path to Verdun, they 
could see a French camp. Reaves still looking through the 
binoculars saw thousands of men moving about all dressed 
in blue uniforms. Near the camp there was an airdrome, two 
planes were seen to leave their sheds and take to the air. 
The French had recognized their German plane and were 
coming to meet them. 

“They are coming for us, we had better land,” he told 


90 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


Cullen and a moment later the plane turned its nose earth¬ 
ward. Reaves took another bird’s-eye view of Verdun with 
its outlying forts lying silent like a monstrous beast ready to 
destroy anything that came within striking distance. They 
landed successfully in an open field near the camp. French 
soldiers seeing the German plane and two men in uniform, 
poured across the field by the hundreds, thinking a German 
plane had been shot down by the French aviators. The two 
French planes which had taken the air to meet them thinking 
they were enemies had now come down and the aviators were 
hurrying towards them. Reaves stood still with his arms 
folded watching them approach from every side. Cullen 
with his face still covered with blood stood near him. One 
of the aviators who was also a captain in the French air 
service, was the first to reach them. He stopped in front of 
the two men in German uniforms and commanded them to 
surrender their arms. Reaves had a half smile on his face 
while the Englishman looked the part of a solemn warrior 
who had just been in battle and was wounded in the fray. 
The crowd had by that time come up and the officer waved 
his hand and told them to stand back. They stopped still 
at the word of command and stood looking on with wonder. 
Reaves took a step forward and looking at the officer said 
in French: 

“I am Frederick Reaves, of New York, permit me to 
introduce my friend, Lord Cullen of the British Air Minis¬ 
try.” 

The officer looked at both men, half doubting what he had 
heard, and Reaves seeing that he hesitated, took from his 
pocket his passport and handed it to him. By this time other 
officers had come up. The captain looked at the passport and 
a smile came over his face. He handed it to another officer 
and snapped into position of salute. 

When the salute was returned by Reaves and Cullen he 
said with a welcome smile, ‘‘I am saluting two heroes and 
not the German uniform you wear gentlemen.” 

“I don’t fancy you would salute these duds,” said Lord 
Cullen gruffly, as the officer shook his hand heartily. 

The captain turned to the soldiers and told them who the 
men in German uniforms were and how they came to be 
wearing them. Caps went into the air and cries of long live 


9i 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

mmr 

England resounded over the plains and without questioning 
they were taken to headquarters where after formal introduc¬ 
tion Lord Cullen’s wounds—which were only slight—were 
dressed with tender care. In a short time civilian clothes 
were procured and the German soldier and officer were soon 
Lord Cullen of London and Frederick Reaves of America. 

They were taken to the officer’s mess for lunch where they 
were entertained royally while being plied with all sorts of 
questions concerning conditions in Berlin and their flight 
and escape to France. After spending the night in camp they 
were taken to Paris the next morning by aeroplane. 

In the great French capital they saw again scenes which 
were similar to those they had witnessed in Berlin. If pos¬ 
sible, the enthusiasm was more intense. The sky-blue uni¬ 
form was everywhere in evidence, the people seemed to 
crowd every avenue. Troop trains were leaving every few 
minutes for the battlefront in northern France or Belgium. 

Lord Cullen reported at once to the British Embassy and 
afterwards made arrangements to leave for England the 
following day. Reaves went direct to headquarters of the 
French secret police and after detailing his experiences of 
the past few days to attentive ears, he dispatched a code 
message to Ulsa Beeman in Berlin, through channels best 
known to himself and the man through whom it was sent. 
That being done, he went to his hotel where he met Lord 
Cullen by previous arrangement. They went up to their 
suite of rooms overlooking the lower end of the Avenue de 
l’Opera and ordered a bottle of wine. While waiting the 
vintage they took seats on opposite sides of a table, facing 
each other. Reaves took from his pocket some cigars such 
as were procurable in Paris at that time and passed one to his 
friend, and they proceeded to smoke without speaking, each 
engaged in deep thought until there was a knock on the 
door. 

“Entrez,” said Reaves and a young man entered with a 
bottle of wine and two glasses on a tray. Both men regarded 
him critically as he filled the two glasses. When he had 
finished and started to leave the room the Englishman asked 
abruptly in French: 

“Why aren’t you in uniform?” 

The waiter turned around and came back to them. 


92 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“Sir,” he said, “they won’t take me—my arm has been 
broken, sir. I went around again this morning, sir, but they 
sent me away again.” 

He took his coat off and showed them where the arm had 
been broken at the elbow joint. It was stiff and the bones 
were not in place. 

“How did it happen?” asked Reaves. 

“Automobile accident, sir, about three years ago.” 

The man put on his coat. A band outside started playing 
the Marseillaise. He went over to the window and stood 
looking out. Far as the eye could see up the street there was 
a line of soldiers. The waiter had forgotten for the moment 
where he was. Cullen looked up at him, his eyes were moist. 

“That is all, waiter,” he said and the man turned away and 
with his head down walked from the room and closed the 
door behind him. 

“The French are a very patriotic people, even the hotel 
waiters,” remarked Reaves. 

“They will need it all before this war ends,” replied the 
Englishman without moving his head. 

After another long silence they took up their glasses, and 
as Reaves held his up toward his friend he said: “Here’s 
hoping that you will soon be safely home again.” 

The Englishman smiled and held up his. “Here’s to you 
and to luck,” he said, “for it took both to get me out of 
Germany.” 

Reaves laughed. “I assure you, the honor goes to you, 
my friend, for without the aeroplane, we would have slept 
in the woods again last night.” 

“We won’t fuss about the honors, old top,” and looking 
at Reaves seriously he asked, “what are you going to do with 
yourself now that Europe is convulsed in war, and your 
business in Berlin has come to an abrupt end?” 

Reaves looked at him quickly, almost resenting the ques¬ 
tion. His eyes moved to the blank wall back of Cullen’s 
head and rested there for a moment. 

“At the present time,” he replied slowly, “I hardly know,” 
then moving quickly in his chair he added, “I shall be in 
Paris until I hear from Berlin. I have already dispatched a 
message and as you have some idea about the channels 
through which it has to go, you can easily see that it might 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


93 


be several days before I receive a reply. But I cannot leave 
Paris,” he added with an air of finality, “until I hear from 
Berlin—and I may decide to go back.” 

At that moment Lord Cullen felt certain that the message 
Reaves had spoken of had been sent to Miss Rotherford. 
He felt that as his friend had taken unusual risk to get him 
across the border, there was nothing that he could do that 
would be sufficient to prove the gratitude he felt. 

The eyes of the two men met and held each other’s gaze. 
Cullen could imagine no other reason for his friend’s very 
positive attitude unless that he was also interested in Miss 
Rotherford. 

“You don’t really mean,” he finally said, “that you are 
thinking of returning to Berlin?” 

The other nodded his head without moving. 

“It is not at all necessary for you to go back across the 
border at this time,” continued Cullen, “and you will be 
taking a great risk to enter Germany again.” 

Reaves whisked around in his seat and started to speak, 
but the Englishman lifted up his hand and looked at him 
with a good-natured smile. “I have been following you 
blindly for three days, now I want you to listen to me.” 

He took his cigar out of his mouth and held it in his hand, 
while he leaned forward with his cane resting on the floor. 
His face was solemn. “Reaves,” he began slowly, “on your 
trip from Berlin here, we have had but little time to talk or 
even think, except about the blooming business of getting 
to a place of safety. I have not even expressed to you my 
appreciation of what you have done for me in getting me out 
of the enemy’s country. No doubt, you are beginning to 
think I am something of a rotter, but I want to tell you now, 
that I feel very deeply my enduring obligations to you.” 
For a second he hesitated then he said: “It will take more 
than words to prove just how grateful I feel toward you, 
and I want you to go with me to London and be my guest 
for an indefinite length of time.” He stopped and looked 
away before he finished. 

“Miss Rotherford is going to join my sister here and we 
will all go over together. You need a rest and we will all do 
what we can to make it pleasant for you.” 

For the first time during Reaves’ long acquaintance with 


94 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


Lord Cullen, he was at a loss to know just what he meant 
by his remarks, he felt that his friend meant something 
more than the meaning of the words he had uttered. What 
he had said could be construed in different ways. He might 
have meant to leave the impression that he believed Reaves 
was also in love with Miss Rotherford and to show his 
gratitude for what Reaves had done for him he was even 
willing to make an opportunity for him to try to win her 
hand. He might have thought, on the other hand, that as his 
country was at war and as Reaves knew a lot of the secrets 
of the German war office, he might eventually turn that very 
useful information over to England. All of his own time 
Cullen reasoned would be taken up with matters of great 
importance at the war office and the square thing would be 
to ask Miss Rotherford to release him from their engage¬ 
ment. Reaves also remembered the expression on his 
friend’s face that evening back in the woods, when he told 
him he had left a person in Berlin who loved him, and to 
think of her, and leave the planning of their escape to him. 

They had gotten up and were standing looking through 
the window at the dense mass of humanity which packed 
the Avenue de l’Opera as far up as the eye could see when 
Reaves turned to Lord Cullen and said: 

“My good friend, I am not averse to your generous feel¬ 
ings and I shall certainly take the first opportunity which I 
may have of visiting you in your home; and as for Miss 
Rotherford, I learned from her own lips that she cares for 
you very deeply. I do not envy you the girl whose heart you 
have won but I congratulate you on your good fortune. 
The gratitude of you and Miss Rotherford more than com¬ 
pensates me for what I have done, and besides,” he added 
with a smile, “our escape from Germany was a great adven¬ 
ture. And now I want you to hurry on to your post in 
England, I have some matters which will keep me in Paris 
until I get a reply to the message which I sent to Berlin. 
As for me,” he continued with a sigh as he glanced through 
the window, “I shall seek contentment in hard work and 
other adventures, happiness will probably continue to be only 
something hoped for. Within a few days I will send you 
news of Miss Rotherford.” 

“I cannot get out before tomorrow or the day after,” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


95 


replied the Englishman, “and I am just hoping you may 
have news before I leave here/’ 

Reaves had picked up his hat and was standing near the 
door. 

“I have to go to the American Embassy/’ he said, “and 
perhaps I will have news for you before you leave; in the 
meantime I hope to have dinner here with you tonight.” 


XI 


Lord Cullen and Reaves dined together at their hotel that 
evening, but they did not discuss further during the meal 
Reaves’ going to England. Their conversation was about 
the war, and the complicated European situation in general. 
When they had finished their dinner they took a walk up the 
Avenue and back down the Champs-Elysees. The crowd in 
the streets was so dense that they were often almost lifted 
off their feet by the impetuous throng of surging people. 
Their minds being occupied with other things than the 
tumult in the city, they soon tired of the crowd and returned 
to their hotel to get a much needed night’s rest. 

The next morning Cullen was up bright and early. He 
had slept in a room next to Reaves, whom he heard moving 
about the room before he himself had thought of getting up. 
When he had finished dressing he knocked on Reaves’ door, 
then opened it and stood in the doorway, leaning against 
the door facing. 

“Pardon me for disturbing you, but I am leaving you this 
morning,” said the Englishman. “My train leaves at twelve 
o’clock, and I should like a little chat with you before I 
leave.” 

“Certainly my friend,” said Reaves jumping out of bed 
and landing on his feet half-way to the bathroom. “I would 
never forgive you if you ran off without leaving a message 
for Miss Rotherford. I shall have to have that,” he went 
on, “as an excuse for looking her up when she arrives in 
Paris.” 

The Englishman smiled and was silent for a moment 
before he made a reply. 

“I wish I knew she would come to Paris, I might give you 
a whole book of messages for her.” 

Reaves finished his shower bath and started dressing hur¬ 
riedly. He felt unusually good after a full night’s sleep. 

“Ah,” he said jokingly to his friend, “don’t you trust too 
many of your and Miss Rotherford’s secrets with me. I may 
have outwitted a few Germans and helped you to get across 

96 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 97 


the border, but I tell you now, my good friend, I am not 
impervious to the charms of such a girl as Miss Rotherford. ,, 
He turned to the Englishman with a smile, “The battles of 
war,” he said, “are as nothing when compared to the battles 
of love. In war, mercy is shown your enemy, but in love, 
your best friend is given no quarter.” 

The smile disappeared from Reaves’ face as he continued 
to speak. “If a man is killed in war, both body and soul are 
lost to his friends, but if a man loses in a battle of real love, 
it is only his soul, his ambition that dies, and the body still 
walks aimlessly about the earth, unless perchance he meets 
another soul mate and forgets his old love; or else he seeks 
forgetfulness in some kind of hard work or dangerous adven¬ 
ture.” 

“You are a great philosopher,” commented Cullen. “One 
would almost believe you were in love at one time.” 

“Well, your country is at war and needs all of your time 
and I think I shall soon be a guest in your home with lots 
of time on my hands, and you have already told me this 
charming American girl will be visiting your sister at the 
same time. Don’t you think I have a right to look forward 
with pleasure to my visit ?” 

“I am delighted to know you have decided to pay me a 
visit old chap, and I am sure the girls will do what they can 
to make things pleasant for you.” 

The Englishman limped back to his own room and took a 
seat. 

Reaves watched him; he seemed to limp worse than on the 
previous day. 

“How’s the wounded leg this morning?” 

“Quite a bit sore,” he replied, his face showing that it 
pained him. 

Reaves had finished dressing so he walked through the 
communicating door into the other room and stopped in 
front of him. 

His friend’s face was flushed. He put his hand on his 
forehead and felt his pulse, then looked at him for a minute. 
He was undoubtedly in great pain and he had a little tempera¬ 
ture. 

“You don’t leave this hotel today,” Reaves 'told him. “I 


98 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

will get a doctor and have that wound dressed, and have your 
sister come over and be with you.” 

'‘The devil you say,” retorted the Englishman, looking at 
him, “I am all right—it is only a flesh wound and I expect 
it to be sore; besides I must be home at my post.” 

“A lot of good a sick man could do at your post,” com¬ 
mented Reaves. "You will improve much faster here, any¬ 
way,” and looking into his friend’s drawn face he added, 
"I decided when I got you in France to let you go alone, but 
I see you need a boss a little while longer. I’ll get a doctor 
now and when your wound is dressed you will feel better, 
and until I return you are to stay right here in this room.” 

The Englishman looked at him sternly without saying a 
word. 

"And when the doctor comes,” added Reaves standing in 
the doorway, "I am going to see that you carry out his 
instructions.” 

He went down into the lobby and telephoned for the doctor 
and called Lady Helen, then took a taxi to the office of the 
police. 

As he walked in police headquarters the man at the desk 
gave him a look of recognition and handed him an envelope. 
He read the message, thanked the man and walked back to 
his taxi. When he returned to the hotel he found Lord 
Cullen in a rage and Lady Helen trying to console him. The 
doctor had come and dressed his wound and told him to 
stay in bed two days, that there was danger of blood poison¬ 
ing or other unfavorable developments, that he ought to be 
in a hospital and lots of other things. 

"Calm yourself, the English can run their part of this 
war a few days without you,” Reaves told him in an assur¬ 
ing tone of voice, "and besides your common sense teaches 
you that you have no business moving about on that leg when 
you have temperature.” 

"But my dear man, I must get home,” protested the 
Englishman. "There is certain information which I must 
impart to my government,” he hesitated, "unless you”—but 
he got no further. 

Reaves had whirled around and flashed his cold eyes upon 
him. 

"I regret,” he said calmly, "that it is necessary for me to 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


99 


again remind you that the United States of America of which 
I am a citizen is not at war with the Imperial Government 
of Germany. ,, 

“I beg your pardon, I had forgotten your strict neutrality,” 
said Lord Cullen, “but I am a bit upset as you know. I am 
just now beginning to realize since I have had time to think, 
what a stupendous thing this war really is,” he looked away 
a moment in silence and added, “only God Himself knows 
when or how it will end.” 

“You have indeed spoken the truth, my friend,” answered 
Reaves, looking out through the window. 

For sometime the two men did not speak, then Reaves 
broke the silence, “It has been four days since we left Berlin, 
but we are both now safe in a friendly country, I think you 
are lucky to have gotten this far towards home, don’t you?” 

“I most assuredly am,” said the Englishman, “but I am 
thinking of what is ahead for my country.” Reaves turned 
around and looked at him with a dry smile on his face. 

“Some wise philosopher has said, ‘to hell with worry, that 
is the place for it.’ Now I am going out and will probably 
be gone most of the day.” 

He went directly to the American Embassy where he 
was busily engaged for several hours. 

About seven-thirty in the evening he returned to the hotel 
and walked into Cullen’s room. “Well, how are you?” he 
asked jokingly. 

The patient looked at him with a frown on his face. 

“Sorry I had to be out all day,” went on Reaves, “but it 
could not be helped.” 

The Englishman was lying on the bed half-dressed. He 
laid the French paper he was reading down on the bed. 

“You and that blooming doctor are a terrible combina¬ 
tion. I am feeling all right now and I could have gone home 
this morning just as well as not.” 

Reaves went over and put his hand over his forehead. The 
fever had left him. 

“Leg very stiff this evening ?” asked Reaves looking down 
at him. 

“No, I tell you man, I am all right,” answered Cullen with 
a show of irritation. 

Reaves was in one of his jolly moods. “I don’t think 


IOO 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


you are very sick tonight myself, anyway your doctor says 
you can go down to dinner, so bestir yourself and spruce up 
while I go down and give the order.” 

The Englishman did not move but lay still staring at the 
blank wall before him while Reaves watched him closely. 
He was not thinking of old England and the war at that 
moment. 

“Are you going to get up?” asked Reaves, “or have I got 
to take you out of bed and dress you before going down for 
dinner?” 

He watched the expression on his friend’s face till he 
half-grinned, then he added, “If 4 will make you feel better 
I will tell you that Miss Rotherford is safe and happy.” 

“Have you had news of her?” he quickly asked looking 
up at him. 

“Ah, my friend, don’t you see I am in good humor 
tonight ?” replied Reaves teasingly. “What could bring about 
such a change but good news from someone left behind?” 

Cullen got up and started to dress and Reaves went down 
to order dinner. Fifteen minutes later he returned and took 
Lord Cullen to a little private sitting-room on the floor 
below. 

“You will have to wait here a few minutes,” he told him 
as he placed a chair and bid him take a seat facing the win¬ 
dow with his back to the curtained door. 

“What does all this mean; why not go on to the dining¬ 
room?” protested the Englishman. 

“Now, now, somebody might hurt that wounded leg in the 
dense crowd downstairs so I ordered dinner sent up here, 
you just amuse yourself watching the poilus march up the 
Avenue until I go down a minute.” 

He was looking out through the window, it had gotten 
dark and he could see by the electric lights the continuous 
line of troops still marching up the Avenue, a band was again 
playing the Marseillaise, changing occasionally to the na¬ 
tional airs of the Allies, Russia or England. The curtain 
parted gently, a girl stepped noiselessly inside, the single 
electric light in the room was dim. Lord Cullen’s tall figure 
was silhouetted against the large window, out of which he 
was gazing. He was leaning uneasily on his cane supporting 
his wounded limb. The girl took a few steps forward and 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY ioi 


stopped. The figure at the window moved as if starting to 
turn around. 

“Robert,” she called softly and with great tenderness in 
her voice. 

He turned around slowly in doubt as to whether he had 
heard a voice. Then he saw her. She was standing there 
smiling one of those gracious smiles he had so often seen in 
his dreams. His eyes opened wide. “Louise,” he gasped as 
he started walking towards her. Reaves and Lady Helen 
watching through a small opening in the curtain saw Miss 
Rotherford drop her head on Lord Cullen’s shoulder, then 
they closed the curtains and walked down the hall towards 
the main dining-room. 


XII 


It was nearly twelve o’clock when Reaves and Lady Helen 
returned to the little sitting-room. 

“Where on earth have you two been all this time?” asked 
Miss Rotherford looking at her wrist watch. “It is almost 
morning and you promised to come back for me early.” 

“Business, important business,” answered Reaves looking 
at Lady Helen with a smile. 

“You will have to excuse him, Louise,” put in Lord Cullen, 
“you know an air of mystery follows him wherever he goes, 
so don’t question him too closely.” 

“I do believe he is affiliated with the band of that mys¬ 
terious American who moves about like a shadow,” said Miss 
Rotherford with a wink at Lord Cullen. 

“Well,” said Reaves turning to Cullen, “I will take the 
ladies back to their friends’ home. Shall I take you up to 
your room first?” 

“It is only a few blocks,” said Cullen, “and I am feeling all 
right, I think I will walk along with you.” 

He started to get up but Reaves touched him on the 
shoulder. 

“No,” he told him, “your doctor said stay in the house 
today and you must obey orders.” 

Miss Rotherford looked at Reaves in astonishment. She 
had never heard anyone speak to her fiance like that before, 
and she was really surprised to see him sit back in his chair 
calmly when Reaves spoke to him. For a moment he sat 
quietly with a stubborn look on his face then he said: 

“Reaves you are perfectly impossible, but I fancy I had 
better obey the doctor’s orders.” 

Reaves smiled at Miss Rotherford who still did not know 
what to make of it all. 

“I will be back in a few minutes,” he told him as he picked 
up his hat and parted the curtains and stood waiting for the 
ladies to pass out of the room in front of him. 

“You are going to be all right now, dear, and I will see 
102 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 103 


you in the morning,” smiled Miss Rotherford. Lady Helen 
kissed her brother good-night and they left the room. The 
crowd had become exhausted after several days and nights 
of almost riotous action and there were few civilians on the 
streets, but the tramp, tramp of soldiers’ feet was still heard 
on the Avenue. France was beginning to settle down to the 
grim business of war. 

“I wonder when this dreadful war will end?” asked Miss 
Rotherford, as the three walked along the street. 

“No one can tell when nor how it will end,” answered 
Reaves in a serious tone of voice. 

“I do hope England will win,” remarked Lady Helen. 

“I certainly do hope so,” added Miss Rotherford. 

Reaves looked at Miss Rotherford rather coldly and said, 
“As a good American, you should not make that remark, 
Miss Rotherford; but, of course, I can understand your 
attitude.” 

“Aren’t you in sympathy with the Allies ?” she asked look¬ 
ing at him in surprise. 

“At the present time,” he replied calmly, “our country has 
declared her neutrality and I am with my country in whatever 
attitude she may take in the matter.” 

They walked on in silence for half a block. It was plain 
that Miss Rotherford was perturbed. 

“I do not understand you, Mr. Reaves, since the first day 
I saw you in Berlin, you have always been evasive in talking 
to me. It must be that you do not trust me.” 

“You are entirely mistaken about my not trusting you, but 
for the present I beg of you to look upon me only as a friend, 
who is willing to help you and the man to whom you are 
engaged to marry. My friendship for Lord Cullen is of long 
standing and you being betrothed to him makes it my sacred 
duty to look after your welfare while he is not able to do so 
himself.” 

They had stopped in front of her house. Miss Rotherford 
looked away, she was plainly affected by his chivalry, and 
after a short silence she turned her head and looked at him. 

“I hope you will pardon me, Mr. Reaves, for appearing to 
be rude; from what Lord Cullen says about you and from 
your conduct towards us, I certainly have reason to believe 


io 4 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


every word you say, and oh, Mr. Reaves, Helen and I can 
never thank you enough for getting Robert out of that horrid 
camp and across the border.” 

“When I think of what you risked to get my brother out 
of that awful place, I feel that we can never repay you,” put 
in Lady Helen. 

“The past few days,” went on Miss Rotherford, “have 
been a terrible experience and I hope I shall never have to go 
through anything like it again.” 

Reaves looked at her tired, care-worn face. 

“You have stood it all nobly,” he said. “Now I think you 
had better go in and get a good night’s rest. I will call for 
you at eleven in the morning.” 

“Oh, I am all right,” she said attempting to be bright, 
“except—everything and you know—” she turned to him 
with a smile, “I am a woman and have a woman’s curiosity. 
Sometimes I think,” she continued looking at him intently, 
“that you are really this mysterious American diplomat of 
whom I have heard so much, but who, it seems nobody 
has ever seen.” He met her steady look with a smile, but 
there was no sign on his face, by which she could tell that 
her thrust had hit its mark. 

He rang the doorbell and while waiting for the door to be 
opened he remarked, “When we get to England, I hope to 
see more of you ladies, then we will have more time to talk 
and perhaps your illusions concerning me will be cleared up.” 

“Then you are going to England, too?” exclaimed Lady 
Helen. “I am so glad, and I am sure Robert will be im¬ 
mensely pleased.” 

“Yes, we all go tomorrow, if Lord Cullen is well enough 
to travel.” 

The door opened, the doorman bowed and stood waiting 
for the ladies to enter. 

Miss Rotherford shot a quick glance at Reaves, and for 
a moment there was silence. This man she thought had 
not only taken command of Lord Cullen, but was politely 
telling her and Lady Helen that they, too, must do his bid¬ 
ding. Inwardly she resented his attitude, but quickly think¬ 
ing what he had done for her fiance, she smiled and extended 
her hand. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 105 


“Good-night, Mr. Reaves,” she said graciously. He took 
her extended hand, then bowed to Lady Helen in true 
European style. “Eleven o’clock tomorrow morning,” he 
said as the ladies entered the house. 


XIII 


Reaves arose early next morning and went out leaving 
Lord Cullen asleep. At nine-thirty he returned and ordered 
breakfast sent up to their suite. As they sat facing each 
other over the little table eating their breakfast they dis¬ 
cussed the war in its many phases. When they had finished 
Reaves looked at his watch and then turned to Cullen. 

“Well, my friend, I am glad to see you looking so well 
this morning. The next twenty-four hours may be a little 
hard on your wounded leg and a little tiresome for your 
sister and Miss Rotherford.” 

“What do you mean?” asked the Englishman. 

“We start for England at twelve o’clock via Brest,” was 
the firm reply; then after a moment’s thought, “it may be a 
slow train and we may have to wait for a boat, but it is the 
best we can do under the circumstances. All roads to Calais 
and other ports north are blocked with troop trains and it 
would probably be difficult to get a boat out from any north¬ 
ern port anyway. If I were alone, I would go a different 
route but the ladies must be looked after until they arrive 
in England.” 

Cullen looked at him steadily before speaking. “Is there 
some special reason why you would like to go via Calais?” 
he asked. “If there is I might be able to arrange for us to 
go that way.” 

“Well, not in particular,” the other replied, “I have made 
inquiries and decided we had better go via Brest.” 

Reaves looked away; he was thinking, but not of the ladies 
or Lord Cullen, but of the girl who had sent him the timely 
message of warning when he was in Berlin. Theresa had 
probably been more instrumental in giving him an oppor¬ 
tunity to escape from the danger which threatened him than 
he at first thought, and ever since Miss Beeman had brought 
him Theresa’s message his mind in moments of relaxation 
continued to revert to her. He had once loved Theresa 
with all his heart and soul, and it was by force of great will 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 107 


power that he had been able to forget her. He thought she 
had put him out of her mind entirely, but she had come to his 
rescue at a very critical moment, and he was not a person to 
forget favors. He longed to communicate with her and 
several times had been on the verge of risking a trip back 
to Berlin to see her, and tell her just how much he appre¬ 
ciated what she had done to save him. 

Cullen sat quietly watching him in his moment of abstrac¬ 
tion, and knew that he was not thinking of the long, tiresome 
trip to England which lay before them; but he could not 
guess what engrossed his attention so deeply; finally he said: 

“I can look after my sister and Miss Rotherford on the 
trip to England if you really have business of importance 
on this side of the channel. We can get along without you 
on the trip and you can come over later/’ 

Reaves turned his head quickly. Cullen’s remarks seemed 
to startle him from his reverie. 

“Really, my friend,” he said politely, “you are a wounded 
man yourself and may need my help on the trip; and as for 
the ladies, they have been through quite enough the last few 
days and are pretty well tired out. Then, too, you might 
get sick again on the way, and I think the ladies would prefer 
that I accompany the three of you back to England.” 

“Why?” asked Cullen, looking at Reaves rather mystified. 
“I am sure Miss Rotherford and my sister feel equal to the 
trip and that we can get back to London safely without your 
assistance.” 

Reaves saw that his last remark had been misunderstood. 
He turned to face his friend. “It is not that the girls do 
not feel safe to travel with you, but I might just as well go 
along and take that little vacation now.” 

“Oh—I see you really do want to go,” said the English¬ 
man. “I am horribly stupid.” 

“You English never see a point until it scratches your skin 
or pricks your pride,” said Reaves with a wry smile as he 
arose from his seat and picked up his hat and started out. 

“I am going for Miss Rotherford and Lady Helen now, 
and you can wait for us in the sitting-room on the second 
floor.” 

In a short time they were all gathered in the sitting-room 
where Reaves explained that after considerable difficulty he 


io8 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


had gotten permission from the proper authorities and 
secured tickets for Brest on the Rapide which was due to 
leave at twelve o’clock. He finally secured a conveyance to 
take them to the station and when they arrived they found 
the train posted two hours late. Soldiers were simply packed 
in and about the station. All those coming from the west 
coast and southern and central France came through that 
station on their way to the battlefront in Belgium and 
northern France. 

To describe the conditions in Paris at that time would be 
impossible, but to foreigners who witnessed it the impression 
made upon them will ever be fresh in their memory. Every¬ 
thing was sacrificed for the movement of troops and mate¬ 
rials of war. The comforts and even the necessities of life 
for the civilian population were for the time being forgotten 
and they had to look out for themselves, which under the 
circumstances was difficult and occasioned a great deal of 
suffering. All the great stores of food supplies were con¬ 
fiscated for the use of the army, and the congestion of the 
railroads made distribution difficult and the smaller supplies 
inaccessible. 

The little party of four waited about the station for hours 
amusing themselves watching the soldiers streaming in from 
the trains and passing into the streets through the crowded 
doors. Reaves ever restless at inactivity would frequently 
leave his seat for a time and mingle with the dense crowd. 
Waiting always got on his nerves. Finally the gate was 
opened and after their passports were examined by many 
official eyes, they were permitted to board the train, where 
liberal tips secured a seat for them in a private compart¬ 
ment. After innumerable delays the train reached Brest the 
following evening and they spent the night at an hotel. 

The following morning they were all up early and had 
their breakfast together in the dining-room. The ladies 
appeared in the best of humor and perfectly happy now 
that they would soon be back in England away from the 
great excitement of being in the immediate vicinity of war. 
Lord Cullen’s wound was much better and while he was a 
little nervous about being delayed in getting to his post in 
London, he considered himself lucky to be able to get back 
at all, and looked upon the situation with perfect calm. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 109 


They had made no definite arrangements for passage from 
Brest to the English coast, all regular sailings had been can¬ 
celled on account of the war, so they had to catch the first 
boat they could get on. When they had finished their break¬ 
fast, Reaves pushed back his chair and lit a cigarette; then 
he looked across the table at Cullen. 

“We must make arrangements to get a boat for London,” 
he said. “I walked out to the harbor awhile ago and it is 
full of ships flying the Union Jack, so if you can use that 
wounded leg this morning, bestir yourself and see if you 
can’t get us on the first boat that turns her nose towards 
England.” 

The Englishman looked at him with surprise. “Then you 
have at last come to the conclusion that I can do things 
sometimes.” 

“I have never doubted your ability to do great things,” 
replied Reaves, “and now I just want you to confirm my 
belief in you. I have been in command from Berlin to 
Brest and now I think you had better take command and see 
that we get aboard one of those ships at an early hour.” 
The others exchanged glances and began to smile; presently 
Reaves joined in as he remarked, “It does seem rather 
strange and ludicrous for me to surrender my auth6rity with¬ 
out a murmur, and I must say that you people have obeyed 
orders wonderfully well; this is going to be a vacation for 
me, and this morning I shall begin to break myself of the 
tiresome habit of hard work.” And to Lord Cullen, “Now, 
your lordship, let’s go and pick a boat to make the trip on.” 
Turning to the ladies he said jovially, “Just one more order 
to you, and this will be my last.” 

“What is it?” asked Lady Helen. 

“Get ready to leave immediately but do not leave the hotel. 
We may want to go aboard in a hurry and the ship’s captain 
might not give us time to go out into the town to find you.” 

“We shall obey your orders at least this time,” smiled Lady 
Helen. 

The two men went to the booking office at the docks 
where Lord Cullen with his passport and other means of 
identification soon secured passage for the little party on a 
boat which was due to leave around noon. 

They all went aboard long before the ship was due to sail 


no BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

and again by the use of large and plentiful tips they suc¬ 
ceeded in securing an excellent stateroom for the ladies and 
fairly decent accommodations for themselves. The ship did 
not leave dock until the sun was low in the western sky, so 
they spent most of the afternoon on deck watching the sights. 
In looking around them many ships could be seen; among 
them war craft of various sizes and descriptions from a sub¬ 
marine to a superdreadnaught. In the harbor soldiers were 
boarding transports to be taken up the coast and put off 
again near the battlefront. From where they were on the 
upper deck of the ship they had a plain view of the railway 
station. Every few minutes trains were seen to depart laden 
with soldiers going to the front. Late in the afternoon their 
ship left the dock and headed for England. The enemy 
submarines had already gotten busy and as they sailed out 
upon the broad expanse of the Atlantic that clear calm 
August afternoon, they could see for miles around them, war 
craft of all sizes and descriptions running in every direction 
guarding the shipping vessels. Destroyers, the faithful little 
watchdogs of the sea, hovered close to the big passenger boat 
on which they were traveling. 

They remained on deck until they were out of sight of 
land. The sun had long since gone down behind the blue 
horizon and only a rapidly disappearing glow of deep red 
could be seen in the direction of sunset. Overhead the stars 
were becoming brighter as day changed into night. Strange 
lights of varied colors winked at them from the darkness 
flashing mysterious messages to other vessels which they 
could not see. Conversation among the party drifted from 
the sights they had been witnessing to questions relating to 
the war. How long would it last? Would other nations 
enter? And on which side? 

“America will side with England,” ventured Miss Rother- 
ford. 

“We certainly expect her sympathy,” put in Lord Cullen 
with an air of confidence. 

Reaves moved his chair and leaned comfortably back 
against the ship’s railing. 

“Our interests are all in common,” continued Cullen, “and 
it may take America’s help to decide the issue.” 

“It is not so gloomy as that yet,” remarked Reaves casu- 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY m 


ally. “You control the seas, your alliances are strong and 
your colonies will all be loyal. You have always been able 
to fight your battles without America and as a matter of 
fact there could be no excuse for America entering the 
struggle at the present time. We are a peace-loving people, 
so don’t count too strongly on our help.” 

For a moment all was quiet. 

Reaves did not wish to discuss America’s attitude towards 
the war, so he arose from his uncomfortable deck chair and 
stood with his back to his friends, looking into the void of 
the ever mysterious darkness. There was no moon and the 
whole of the canopy of the heavens was lit up with twinkling 
stars. As he stood with his hands on the railing gazing up 
into the great expanse of the heavens Miss Rotherford 
walked up beside him and for a moment stood still in the 
darkness looking at this man of mystery. 

“You seem to be admiring the wonder of the heavens, 
Mr. Reaves,” she finally said. 

He looked around. Miss Rotherford stood looking into 
his face. 

“Yes, I was just admiring the beauties of the constella¬ 
tions. Thinking of the heavens serves for the moment to 
get one’s mind off the horrors of war.” 

“Oh—you are a student of astronomy, are you?” 

“Not exactly that,” he replied, “but I gather inspiration 
from gazing at the stars. Look there,” he said, pointing his 
finger, “there is the dipper, the seven stars, the great milky 
way, and there is the coffin, and here the evening star just 
above the horizon. Everyone knows about those, but there 
are many others just as interesting if a person has studied 
astronomy,” and looking at her he added, “to me there is 
always an element of sadness about sunset or the moon going 
down.” 

“You are indeed a man of mystery, Mr. Reaves. I see 
your mind is never idle. In Berlin you played the gallant 
young man ready to do my bidding; in Paris you ordered 
Lord Cullen and myself around as if we were spoiled chil¬ 
dren, and now you are looking at the stars and talking phi¬ 
losophy; but I must admit that your musings interest me.” 

He seemed not to hear what she had said, but continued 
to look out into the darkness towards shore. Finally he said : 


112 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“This is a romantic night, only the moon with its en¬ 
trancing smile is needed to make the night perfect. ,, 

She turned and looking at him started to speak. She knew 
that he was not only thinking of the wonders and beauties 
of the heavens but his thoughts had for the moment reverted 
to Theresa; but she could not nerve herself to even speak a 
word of consolation to him. Somewhere back in the lives 
of these two people there was mystery, and Theresa still 
loved this man who had rescued her fiance. He had not 
spoken to her about his affair with Theresa, and she dared 
not mention the subject to him. She felt certain that some 
day he would tell her the whole story and she must wait. 
After they had been standing there in silence for some time, 
she turned to him. 

“What time do we land in the morning ?” she asked, trying 
to change the trend of his thoughts. 

“Probably late,” he answered as he turned suddenly facing 
her, “we may land at Plymouth instead of Southampton, 
where the docks are congested with troop ships,” and looking 
around he saw Lord Cullen and his sister alone. “It is 
getting late, Miss Rotherford, and you had better join Lady 
Helen and get some rest, we may have difficulty in getting 
to London, so you had better prepare yourself for another 
tiresome day. I am used to losing sleep, and I shall remain 
here for a while longer.” 

“I shall act on your suggestion,” she replied, “so I will say 
good-night, Mr. Reaves.” 

He raised his hat as he said good-night, then turned around 
and continued to gaze into the darkness. In the distance 
great searchlights had started criss-crossing the skies in 
various directions. He watched them for several minutes; 
closer by a ship was giving signals by flashing lights of 
different colors. Far off he heard small cannon firing. An 
enemy submarine had been sighted. The firing kept up for 
two or three minutes then all was quiet. 

* * * * * 

They arrived outside of Plymouth sometime before day¬ 
light but the docks were so crowded with troops and supply 
ships that they had to drop anchor outside the harbor and it 
was almost midday before a tugboat came alongside and 
towed them into dock. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 113 


The many delays encountered from Paris had begun to 
nettle Reaves’ impetuous temperament. As they stepped 
ashore he looked around him, the people were calm; troops 
were marching up the gangplank to a ship nearby and the 
decks were already lined with men; artillery and other war 
material was being loaded on ships in the harbor, but every¬ 
thing was quiet and orderly; quite a different scene from 
what they had but a few days before witnessed in Berlin 
and Paris. England was getting down to the grim business 
of war very slowly. They went into the city where there 
was but little excitement to be noticed except soldiers on 
the march, and in a public square, a man stood on a box 
exhorting young men to enlist—without delay. The little 
party went to a hotel and had lunch and after waiting several 
hours they finally got aboard a train bound for London, 
where they arrived early next morning—almost exhausted 
from the wearisome journey. 

When they stepped from the train Lord Cullen turned to 
Reaves and said: 

“Now, my good friend, from here on I take complete 
charge of our little party.” Reaves started to speak but the 
Englishman held up his hand and continued, “You must do 
me the honor of being my guest in my town house for at 
least a couple of weeks and I want my mother to meet and 
know the man who has rescued me from worse than death. 
My sister and Miss Rotherford are going to help me try to 
make things pleasant for you.” 

Reaves protested with some remark about going to a 
hotel, but Cullen took him by the arm and started for a taxi 
which was waiting at the curb. 

The mother had not heard a word from Lord Cullen since 
war was declared and thought he had been interned in Ger¬ 
many, so their joy knew no bounds when he walked in un¬ 
expectedly with his sister and the other members of the 
party. After joyous greetings Cullen introduced Reaves to 
his mother as his friend. 

After instructing his butler to look after Reaves’ every 
want he hurried to the war office leaving Reaves at his home. 
For the next few days Reaves only saw Cullen two or three 
times, and then it was for just a few minutes. His whole 
time being taken up at the war office. Reaves himself was 


114 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


not idle; he had made several trips to the American Embassy 
and had communicated with Miss Beeman through Scotland 
Yard. 

As he started out one morning he ran across Lady Helen. 
She was in the large hall room which formed the entrance 
to the century-old mansion. She greeted him rather coldly 
and feeling a natural antipathy for the nobility, he resented it 
inwardly. 

“We are so glad that America is sympathizing with us,” 
she said after he returned her morning’s greeting. 

He forced a smile and after a moment said, “I have not 
seen the morning papers. Has America expressed her sym¬ 
pathies openly?” 

The smile disappeared from her face. 

“No,” she replied, “but individuals have! and we are of 
the same flesh and blood.” 

Reaves caught himself. He must not be rude to Lady Helen 
he thought. He was a guest in her home. He looked at her 
and smiled softly. 

“You will probably win the war and not need America’s 
assistance,” he said as he went through the door into the 
street. 

A day or two later Lord Cullen was standing before a 
window in the great drawing-room deeply engaged in thought 
about matters connected with his duties at the war office. 
He had arrived home a few minutes before dinner, expecting 
to spend a few minutes with Reaves, but he had ’phoned 
that he was taking dinner out and would be in late that 
evening. Lady Helen entered but he did not see her. 

“Oh, you are here to have dinner with us, aren’t you, 
brother? You have almost deserted us recently and we have 
missed you so much.” In a moment she added, “I really 
don’t believe your friend is companionable in the least. He 
is out nearly all the time.” She went up to her brother who 
had not given any sign of having heard what she had been 
saying and kissed him and straightened his tie. 

“Maybe the war won’t last long and you won’t have to be 
away from us at all.” 

Her brother was still silent while she pinned a flower on 
the lapel of his coat. After strenuous mental efforts she 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 115 


managed to ask the question which had been on her mind 
since she met Reaves in Paris. 

“Who is this American friend of yours, Robert? Miss 
Rotherford does not seem to want to discuss him at all, 
except she said he belonged to one of the oldest families in 
America.” 

He turned and faced his sister. 

“Why do you ask me that, Helen?” 

“Because brother, because—there is something mysterious 
about him. Why the other day I spoke to him about America 
being in sympathy with us in this war, and he looked at me 
so peculiarly, and with such penetrating eyes, I felt that 
he was reading my very soul; and then he seemed to sud¬ 
denly realize who I was, or where he was, or something 
and he smiled at me with the innocence of a child; then he 
said that we might win the war ourselves and not need 
America’s sympathy. It seems that when he is around I have 
no will power of my own, yet there is some indescribable 
thing about him that makes me admire him.” 

For a moment Lord Cullen’s mind reverted to his long¬ 
standing friendship with Reaves. They had met when Cullen 
was in Paris on some diplomatic errand for his government 
several years previously. They had met again in Constanti¬ 
nople and had traveled together to Egypt and other places, 
and they were in Berlin together some time before the war 
started. Reaves had helped him to secure information at 
times because he wanted the same information for his own 
country, and finally he had risked his own liberty even his 
life to get Cullen out of Germany. If ever a man had oppor¬ 
tunity to know another he had opportunity to know Reaves. 
He put his arm about his sister and kissed her, and again 
turned his face towards the open window and stood there 
silently with his arm about her. 

Her curiosity was not satisfied and she persisted. “This 
friend of yours is so interesting,” she said. “I think you 
might tell us more about him.” 

He turned around and faced her again, as he began, 
“Helen, you are right and I have been thoughtless and stupid 
not to have told you before; but we are in such a rush at the 
war office, and then I thought Louise would tell you.” 

“Now brother, you know Louise is too diplomatic to tell 


n6 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


us in detail about your friends. She has spoken of him in 
most complimentary terms and told us about his coming 
out of Germany with you and of his being so attentive to 
you both; but she thinks as mother and I, that he is some¬ 
what of a mystery and that you should tell us about him.” 

He continued to look at his sister for a moment, engaged 
in thought. He almost resented the attitude of his family 
and fiancee towards the man who had done so much for him, 
but after all he decided he alone was to blame. Looking 
straight into his sister’s eyes he said: 

“Frederick Reaves risked his own life several times to 
save mine, but for him I would now be interned in Germany. 
He is the man responsible for my being with you all tonight. 
What he did for me is insignificant compared with the great 
service he has done the British Empire by enabling me to get 
home so that I might turn over to the war office the infor¬ 
mation in my possession concerning Germany’s plans in this 
war.” 

“We have got to reward him in some way, or we are a set 
of ingrates, and ingratitude is the meanest trait in the human 
makeup,” he finished with a note of irony in his voice. 

Lady Helen had taken a step backward. She was sur¬ 
prised at what her brother had told her. 

“Oh, brother,” she exclaimed, “I did not know; I learned 
nothing from my conversation with you or him in Paris, 
neither of you seemed inclined to talk to me. You treated 
me as though I were a child not interested in the war. It is 
true I have been cold towards him but it is not my fault. 
Why didn’t you tell me all about it in Paris ? I understood 
that you both left Germany together but did not know that 
it was he who brought you safely to Paris.” 

“You must excuse me, Helen, but I have been so occupied 
in thinking of this blooming war that I have forgotten every¬ 
thing else.” 

“I understand perfectly,” she said, “but it would have 
killed us if you hadn’t gotten home; and to think Mr. Reaves 
is the man who rescued you from that awful camp. I should 
have known that you never would have brought him into our 
home without some good reason for doing so. We can never 
repay him and just think, I have probably offended him.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 117 


And looking at her brother quickly she added, “that is prob¬ 
ably why he did not come in to dinner tonight.” 

Lord Cullen looked at his sister and shook his head slowly. 

“That would be a small thing, Helen, and there is nothing 
small about Frederick Reaves. He is a man clean through.” 

Lady Helen had recovered from her surprise and now felt 
that she wanted in some way to show Reaves that she appre¬ 
ciated what he had done for her brother. 

“Is it all right for me to be seen with him, brother?” 

He looked at her with a frown on his face. 

“Why certainly it is,” he replied. “He is about the clean¬ 
est chap I ever knew and furthermore,” he looked away a 
moment before continuing, “he can be of great service to 
England, if we can get him to enlist in the service.” 

“Do you mean that you want me to suggest that to him?” 

“Oh, Helen, you are perfectly impossible; English women 
will never make diplomats,” he said. 

The butler came in and announced that dinner was served. 
Lady Helen took her brother’s arm and as they walked 
towards the dining-room he suggested to his sister that she 
and Miss Rotherford might drive Reaves up to Shelby 
Manor, their country home, the next morning. 

She was delighted with the idea and smilingly said, “Leave 
him to Louise and me, we will soon have him wearing a 
British uniform.” 

“Don’t forget, my dear sister,” he warned turning his 
head towards her significantly, “Frederick Reaves is a man 
of keen intellect and always on the alert, you must not let 
him suspect.” 

She at last understood that her brother really meant that 
she must in some way win Reaves’ sympathies and prevail 
upon him to enlist in the British army. She was anxious to 
do some kind of work for her country. Other women of her 
class were already banding themselves together for various 
kinds of war work. 

After they had finished dinner, Lord Cullen hurried back 
to the war office and Lady Helen discussed her plans with 
Miss Rotherford, who advised against any open discussion 
of the subject with Reaves at the present time. 

“If I am any judge of human nature, that man does his 
own thinking and forms his own conclusions,” Miss Rother- 


ii8 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


ford told her. After a moment’s thought she continued in 
her calm tone of voice, “His methods are unknown to us, 
but I believe he had some definite object in view when he 
came to England. You do not always understand us Ameri¬ 
cans,” she added with a smile. “Probably in your enthu¬ 
siasm over your brother’s wanting him in the service, you 
feel that you might use your great attractions and your 
power of sex to influence him; but, my dear Helen, take a 
tip from me and have no clash of wills with this man of 
mystery.” 

The two girls were discussing the man, woman to woman, 
and Lady Helen felt a great responsibility rested upon her. 

“But what am I to do?” she asked seriously of Miss 
Rotherford. “Brother says he can be of great service to 
England, and now while he is brother’s guest is the best 
opportunity we will have to try to make him see things our 
way.” 

Miss Rotherford reflected a moment, then got up from her 
seat and walked to the center table and picked up a magazine 
and stood for a moment looking at the cover; she was think¬ 
ing. She had seen enough of this mysterious man to form 
an opinion of him. She turned around suddenly and her eyes 
met those of Lady Helen, who had been watching her all the 
while. 

“Listen to me,” she said seriously, “Frederick Reaves is a 
typical American of the higher intellectual type; he sees 
things long before they happen. His insight and forethought 
are positively uncanny; his will is unbending and no one can 
influence him. He makes his plans and acts on them without 
telling anybody his business.” 

Lady Helen moved nervously in her seat. Miss Rother¬ 
ford came over and stood over her smiling. “Entertain Mr. 
Reaves, as you should your brother’s guest,” she told her, 
“and tell him how much you appreciate his great kindness to 
your brother. That much is due him, anyway.” 

Helen looked at her, then turned her head away. For a 
moment she was lost in reflection. Miss Rotherford is an 
American and should know American men better than she 
knew them, she thought. She had watched her handle her 
brother with delightful ease, but she was rather antagonistic 
to her ideas concerning Reaves; so there was little chance 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 119 


of getting her to use her influence with him. She now had 
two tasks before her; first, to enlist Miss Rotherford’s aid; 
second, she and Miss Rotherford working together must 
secure Reaves’ services for England. 

Miss Rotherford saw that she was worried and went over 
and sat on the arm of her chair. 

“Helen, dear, you cannot persuade Mr. Reaves to do any¬ 
thing. There is no use trying, but I will help you entertain 
him and make things pleasant for him so that he may for¬ 
get some of his natural prejudice against England.” 

“Yes, Louise, I believe he is prejudiced against us, and I 
believe with your help we can have some influence with him, 
and I do so much want him to serve England in this war. 
Brother has so much confidence in his ability.” 

Miss Rotherford laughed aloud; she was amused at 
Helen’s earnestness in persisting that they persuade Reaves 
to enlist in the service of England. Persuasion with such a 
man was out of the question. The knocker sounded at the 
front door. 

“There he is now,” said Lady Helen, “I will go and talk 
to him tonight.” 

She was out of her seat and started for the door but Miss 
Rotherford called her back and told her not to think of such 
rash things. 

“Now, my dear,” said Miss Rotherford, when they were 
seated again, “you asked me to help you and I am at least 
not going to let you go out and talk to him in your present 
state of mind. Why, you might even mention the matter 
right out to him and spoil the whole business. I am older 
than you and have had quite a lot of experience in handling 
American men. Suppose you do as I suggest and let’s see 
what can be done.” 

“Oh, Louise, will you really help me ? I always knew you 
were the loveliest girl in the world, and I am so glad that 
you are soon to be my sister-in-law.” 

Miss Rotherford kissed her affectionately, then walked 
over to the desk and got some writing paper and pen and ink, 
then she motioned Helen to take a seat at the desk. 

“Now, dear,” she said sweetly, “I will just stand here and 
see that you do this right.” 


120 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


Helen looked up at her and smiled. “Now, what do you 
want me to do, Louise ?” 

‘‘Just write as I dictate—My dear Mr. Reaves—” 

“Oh, Helen, dear, please do as I ask you, just this once,” 
persisted Miss Rotherford. 

She looked down at the blank paper and Miss Rotherford 
started again to dictate. 

“My dear Mr. Reaves: My brother told us tonight for 
the first time what a good friend you had been to him 
on numerous occasions and especially in his recent flight 
from Germany. Mother and I feel that we can never 
thank you for this great evidence of your friendship. 

I know that your time is pretty well taken up during 
the day, and as we do not see you at breakfast, I beg 
of you to do me the kindness to see me tomorrow morn¬ 
ing at 9:30 in the drawing-room. May I hope that your 
day is not so filled that you will not have time to accom¬ 
pany Miss Rotherford and myself for a short ride into 
the country ? Sincerely, 

Lady Helen. 

“Now call the butler and send that to his room tonight,” 
Miss Rotherford told her. 

Helen looked straight before her for some time before 
speaking, finally she said: 

“I almost tremble with anxiety when I think of how much 
depends on the interview with him in the morning. I don’t 
mind talking to most men, but somehow he is different.” 

“Nonsense,” exclaimed Miss Rotherford, “just be your 
natural self, you have never met a more pleasant and cul¬ 
tured man in your life; after you have entertained him a 
few minutes I will drop in and see how things are with 
you two.” 


XIV 


At the appointed time the next morning Lady Helen 
entered the drawing-room and found Reaves sitting by the 
window deeply engrossed in reading the morning’s paper. 
She started immediately making apologies for her seeming 
coldness to him as her brother’s guest, but she told him it 
was all her brother’s fault, for it was only the evening 
before that he had told her of the great and enduring obli¬ 
gations the family had because of what he had done for him. 

“I have enjoyed my stay here tremendously, Lady Helen, 
and this is too serious a time to pay attention to the small 
oversights. You must not forget,” he continued seriously, 
“that I am indebted to your brother for many favors and 
that I admire him very highly.” 

“We are so delighted to have you here as our guest and 
you must let us do something for your pleasure,” said the 
girl. 

“It is a great pleasure to visit the home of my good friend, 
Lord Cullen, I assure you, Lady Helen; although my time 
has been pretty well taken up since I have been here, I hope 
to see more of you during the rest of my stay in England.” 
At that moment Miss Rotherford appeared in the doorway 
smiling graciously and looking her best. Reaves and Lady 
Helen were standing before the large window, and Reaves 
still held the morning paper in his hand. 

“What is the war news?” inquired Miss Rotherford after 
greeting the pair and shaking hands with Reaves. 

“The Germans are still advancing,” he replied. 

“Do you think they will reach Paris ?” asked Helen looking 
at him. 

“Not if the French will hurry up with their mobilization 
and the English speed up the matter of transporting troops 
to the continent.” 

“You don’t seem to count the British for much at 
present,” broke in Miss Rotherford. 

121 


122 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“Oh! what will become of us if they capture Paris ?” ex¬ 
claimed Helen. 

Reaves looked out the window, some soldiers were passing 
with a train of trucks on their way to the coast to be sent 
across the channel. They were moving slowly but steadily 
along, the people in the street paid but little attention to 
them. 

Finally Reaves turned to face them again as he said, “It 
will be many months before England gets busy in this war, 
but the defeat of France would not necessarily mean that 
England would lose the war.” 

“Then you believe in England at least,” said Lady Helen 
looking at him with a smile. 

He turned his head, a little embarrassed; he did not wish 
to appear rude by again reminding her that his country was 
not at war with the central powers, and did not wish to 
express any open sympathy with either side. Miss Rother- 
ford relieved the situation by suggesting that they would not 
discuss the war but motor into the country. 

“I must look after some matters downtown this morning,” 
said Reaves, “but I shall have finished by noon or there¬ 
abouts, and if you can pick me up at the Ritz about one-thirty 
I shall be delighted to go with you.” 

The party of three arrived at Shelby Manor in the cool 
of the afternoon and spent a couple of hours strolling about 
the place before sunset. In the evening Lord Cullen came 
out and joined them. The family had only recently left the 
Manor. Like many other families they had moved back to 
London because they wanted first-hand news of the war and 
to be ready to do their bit in whatever came up. After they 
had supper, Reaves and Helen went into the garden and took 
a seat on a bench in the summer-house. The cool atmos¬ 
phere of the summer night was truly enticing. Reaves sud¬ 
denly became very quiet. His mind had turned back a few 
pages in life’s history to the time and place, back in America 
when he had sat in a little garden-house with Theresa and 
poured out his soul to her. She had looked so beautiful and 
attractive; she was happy. He had planned to spend his 
whole life trying to keep her just as she looked in that little 
summer-house but something had come between them and 
one day she had said in anger that she hated him and that she 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 123 

did not wish to see him again. He took her at her word and 
went away and now, nearly three years later, she happened 
to be in Berlin, and learning of a plot against him she had 
hastened to warn him of impending danger. 

“It is a glorious night,” said Lady Helen, who had been 
watching his abstraction. 

“I beg your pardon,” he said, turning quickly toward her, 
“but it has been some time since I had the pleasure of such 
quietude and good company.” 

“You were not thinking about the company,” she said, 
laughingly, “because your mind was on something else— 
must I say someone else?” 

“You are right—I think of many people, some of my 
thoughts are pleasant and some are unpleasant.” 

“Some of your thoughts had a little anguish mixed in— 
now didn’t they?” she asked. 

He turned to her with a smile as he said, “A woman’s intui¬ 
tion must be recognized.” 

“Then you admit my surmise was correct.” 

He nodded and smiled at the correctness of her gentleness. 

“I am beginning to realize that you are after all really 
human,” she said. 

“Why did you ever think otherwise?” he asked, gazing 
fixedly into her eyes. 

She looked away for a moment in silence then replied, “I 
hardly know. The few words you have spoken to me before 
today, and the way you looked at me at times when I would 
speak to you made me feel that you were almost superhuman; 
a person apart from the rest of the world.” 

“I am sorry I left that impression with you. It was prob¬ 
ably because I have been doing some pretty hard thinking the 
few days I have been in England.” 

“And, may I ask, have you come to any conclusion?” she 
ventured. 

He turned again facing her this time. She met his steady 
gaze unflinchingly. 

“Yes, I have about some things, other problems I am still 
pondering.” 

She wisely decided not to question him further, but she 
felt hopeful that he had concluded to join the English forces. 

They started back to join her brother and Miss Rother- 


124 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


ford whom they had left sitting on the veranda. At the gar¬ 
den gate they stopped, all about them was stillness, that still¬ 
ness which can only be described by saying that it is the 
absence of the noise, turmoil and strife in which we daily 
live. ’Reaves had always been a student of astronomy and 
almost forgetting that Lady Helen still had her arm in his, 
he stood as if transfixed gazing up into the heavens. 

“Is your star shining brightly tonight ?” she asked by way 
of breaking the long silence. 

“Are you interested in astronomy?” he asked. 

“I studied it with some interest when I was in college,” 
she replied casually. 

“Well,” said Reaves, “I get a great deal of inspiration 
from watching the moon and the twinkle of the stars on a 
still night. It impresses me with the bigness of God and the 
littleness of man. I have never seen the heavens look more 
beautiful than tonight, a million stars are winking in mocking 
silence at the ignorance and wickedness of man. The great¬ 
est war in the history of the human race; the greatest set¬ 
back civilization has ever experienced, and the greatest 
tragedy since the death of Christ is just beginning; such 
things are but human and are the results of selfishness, greed 
and the instability of man’s nature. But the tragedies of 
man’s weaknesses make no impression on the laws of God 
which govern the universe. It is not an ignorant person but 
only a disordered mind that fails to see God ever present and 
all powerful.” 

“I am beginning to learn lots about you and I like your 
philosophy very much,” said Lady Helen, who had listened 
to his remarks in perfect silence and with a bit of surprise. 

“I should love to hear you talk about—well; what must I 
say—the philosophy of religion, or the spirit world.” 

“Both are deep subjects,” he said, looking at her with a 
smile. 

When they returned to the house they found Miss Rother- 
ford and Lord Cullen sitting on the veranda. 

“Well,” remarked Lady Helen rather enthusiastically as 
they went over and joined them, “I have learned lots of 
things about Mr. Reaves; he is a philosopher; he studies the 
stars, and I think he believes in spirits,” and turning to him 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 125 


she said, “I do wish you would tell us something about the 
shadow world.” 

“Well,” said Reaves looking into the darkness, “there are 
spirits all around us tonight. Some of them are good and 
some are bad, but there appears to be one specially nice and 
sweet. It is that of a child. It smiles perpetually. And 
there is also an angry spirit about, probably that of one of 
your ancestors who took part in former wars.” 

Lady Helen’s only sister had died in that house at the 
age of eleven and many of the men of the house of Cullen 
had taken part in England’s wars. 

After a moment Reaves looked around, the dim light from 
the hall showed upon Lady Helen’s face. She was pale, he 
knew that his reference to the spirits being present had 
touched some responsive chord and he hastened to add: 

“Spirits are harmless in most instances, you can converse 
with them and persuade the bad ones to leave you if you do 
not like them around.” 

Lord Cullen who had been sitting quietly in the corner of 
the porch turned his head slowly around. 

“If the spirits of any of my ancestors are around they 
sure have reason to be restless now at the way England is 
conducting this war,” he said. “Our navy is doing all that 
could be expected except we have no effectual way at present 
to combat the submarines. Some means of coping with them 
should have been worked out long ago. Our army is a 
negligible quantity, in fact it is so small that it can hardly be 
of any assistance at the present time. Seeing, as we did 
years ago, that this war was coming, I am unable to under¬ 
stand why England is not ready. For ten years Germany has 
bent all her energies in preparing for war against England.” 

After a moment’s hesitation in which no one broke the 
silence, he continued, “As I see the situation, it will be a long 
war and the chances are against us winning.” Then turning 
to Reaves, “If America could see that this is her war as 
much as ours, and see furthermore that now is the time to 
repay France for helping her to win her independence it 
would be a great thing for the world.” 

Reaves looked at him coldly. 

“I must admit,” he said, “that America may have to help 
you to win this war, but at present my country has no reason 


126 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


for fighting the central powers and I should like to know 
what reasons you have for thinking we should ally ourselves 
on the side of the triple entente at the present time.” 

The Englishman was silent for a moment. 

“For a hundred years,” he said, “we have been friends, our 
commercial interests have been the same and we are bound 
together by ties of blood which can never be broken, and you 
have always acknowledged your debt to France. With 
England and France out of the way you would be fighting 
Germany in less than a year.” 

“Nations do not fight wars for their neighbors,” said 
Reaves, looking at his friend coldly. “I do not believe 
England entered this war to help France, Russia or Belgium, 
nor because Germany violated a solemn treaty; but because 
she knew that Germany would annihilate France and force 
Russia to accept a humiliating peace, and then turn to 
England; and I am afraid you would stand no show in a 
war with Germany singlehanded. I am going to tell you 
further, if America enters this war it will be because it is 
the wise thing for her to do for her own interest. Frankly 
speaking, America cannot afford to let Germany win this 
war, for the very important reason that Germany would 
immediately seek an alliance with Japan, and Japan would 
welcome such alliances; then Japan would attack our west 
coast while Germany would simultaneously attack our east 
coast. America is wide-awake to conditions and keeping an 
eye on the situation, so cut out that rot about blood ties, 
moral obligations, and gratitude for what France did for 
us more than a hundred years ago.” 

Lady Helen had been listening intently to the conversation 
and now she moved uneasily in her seat. She did not know 
what to make of Reaves’ cold-blooded remarks. She started 
to say something but Miss Rotherford touched her on the 
arm and shook her head. Reaves was talking and she did 
not want to lose an opportunity to hear his opinions about 
the very things that they wanted him to talk about. 

“It is a little unusual,” said Lord Cullen, “to hear an 
American express such opinions as you have, and in justice 
to your country I am going to say that we people of England 
do not believe that America will take sides in this war with 
any power for purely selfish reasons. We have never had 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 127 


reasons to complain of such motives from your country and 
I shall take your views as purely personal.” 

"‘That is true. I am not acting as a mouthpiece for my 
country, but simply discussing with you the philosophy of 
wars from a purely personal point of view.” 

“Then I take it,” continued Cullen, “that you do not 
believe in the power of treaties.” 

“You are quite mistaken,” was the simple rejoinder, 
“treaties serve a great purpose. They prevent wars for a 
certain length of time by binding nations together; commer¬ 
cial treaties are very necessary but they often cause wars by 
being unjust to those nations who are not parties to the 
treaties. In other words they only benefit the nations who 
are parties to them, while they militate against nations not 
a party to them; therefore, there is jealousy of power and 
authority, which results in envy, hatred and war. All 
through history nations have violated treaties through the 
necessity of self-preservation, or other good and sufficient 
reasons, and they will always continue to do it.” 

Lord Cullen looked at Reaves and shook his head solemnly. 

“Old England,” he said, “has never violated a solemn 
treaty.” 

Reaves leaned forward in his chair and fixed his eyes 
steadily upon those of his friend. 

“What about the treaty of Amiens ?” he said. “Unless his¬ 
tory lies to us, England herself practically dictated that 
treaty. Napoleon had every reason to want peace. He sent 
for your ambassador and pleaded with him, he had carried 
out every detail of France’s part of that treaty, yet England 
would not evacuate Malta. You broke the treaty of Amiens 
for the same reason that you kept your treaty with Belgium 
and France—self-preservation. I am not taking up for Ger¬ 
many in her violation of the neutrality of Belgium, but I do 
say the broad principles of justice to all nations should be 
universally recognized. Secret treaties are an abomination to 
civilization. The history of human progress is dotted with 
many black pages denoting wrecked governments which re¬ 
sulted from secret treaties. The extent of hatred and sus¬ 
picion resulting from a secret treaty depends, of course, 
on the extent of unfairness to other nations. In this en¬ 
lightened age no international secrets go long undiscovered. 


128 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


The world is a network of spies and secret service agents, 
and every important nation soon discovers the secrets of 
every other nation; so why have secret treaties ?” 

“I admit,” said Lord Cullen, “that secret treaties are looked 
upon with an eye of suspicion, and that every important 
nation keeps a pretty close watch on the world's politics, but 
they often serve their purpose in preserving the integrity of 
nations.” 

“They have served a great purpose in extending Eng¬ 
land’s commerce,” retorted Reaves derisively. “England 
has ever been unmerciful and selfish in her commercial deal¬ 
ings with other nations. At the beginning of this war about 
sixty per cent of the world’s commerce was carried in 
British ships, and you raise a howl every time another na¬ 
tion attempts to enlarge its merchant marine. Why, in 
America, the mere mention of a ship subsidy bill in Congress 
brings forth the most vehement protest from Downing Street, 
and your press immediately gets busy, and puts forth all 
kinds of unjust and impossible reasons why it would be 
unfair to England.” 

“It is true we are jealous of our success commercially,” 
said the Englishman, “but in the matter of subsidizing the 
mercantile marine, America with her vast wealth could sub¬ 
sidize a large mercantile marine without making the expendi¬ 
ture a national burden, and to such an extent that her ship 
owners could easily afford to carry goods at a cheaper rate 
and bring about unfair competition.” 

“Well,” said Reaves, “without arguing the matter further, 
there are two things of great importance to America which 
England has frequently interfered with, where she has no 
right; first, America’s internal politics; second, her mercan¬ 
tile marine, and such intereference is highly resented by 
America.” 

He took a puff at his cigarette and blew the smoke into the 
air, then he looked back at Cullen. 

“For the period of this war at least,” he said, “England 
had better change her policy.” 

Lord Cullen had listened attentively to Reaves who had 
done most of the talking. He now arose from his seat and 
put his hand on Reaves’ shoulder. 

“I have learned something,” he said, “from our discussion 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 129 


of the philosophy of war and treaties.” He looked down at 
Reaves, who had not left his seat, with a smile, “Now let us 
return to the city, I can go to sleep knowing more about the 
real American point of view than I did last night.” 

Reaves had gotten something off his mind and it was infor¬ 
mation the Englishman wanted to know. 

They motored back to London, and as the ladies started to 
leave them in the drawing-room Reaves turned to Lady 
Helen. “I believe the Countess St. Cere is a friend of yours, 
is she not?” 

“Yes, why?” she asked. 

“She is to have lunch at the Ritz tomorrow at two-thirty, 
I shall do away with formalities on account of the serious¬ 
ness of the times and ask you to do me the honor of lunch¬ 
ing with me there at that hour and favor me with an intro¬ 
duction to the lady.” 

Lady Helen gasped and looked at Reaves in utter amaze¬ 
ment. 

“How—how did you know that we were friends,” she 
asked, and after a moment’s hesitation, “and that she is to 
lunch at the Ritz tomorrow ?” 

Reaves smiled but ignored her questions. 

“Surely Helen will go with you,” broke in her brother, 
seeing Reaves’ embarrassment, and that his sister was too 
inquisitive. 

“I feel awfully slighted,” said Miss Rotherford with a 
smile at Reaves. 

“Well,” he remarked, “when we return in the afternoon I 
want you to take a walk with me, I am sure my friend,” he 
said looking towards Cullen, “will not be jealous—though 
he’d better keep an eye on me when his sister is around, all 
American men are susceptible to beauty and charm you 
know.” 

Reaves stood and watched the ladies pass through the door 
and waited until their footsteps could not be heard down the 
hall, then he turned and faced Cullen, “What do you know 
about the Countess St. Cere?” 

The Englishman took a puff at his cigarette and thought 
a minute. 

“Nothing definite, but I have my suspicions,” was his 
reply. 


130 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

“Well,” continued Reaves dryly, “it is time you were 
learning something about her. She is a German spy.” 

“Have you proof of that?” asked the Englishman. 

“Yes,” replied Reaves, looking at his friend seriously. 
“Ulsa Beeman told me so months ago in Berlin, and pointed 
her out to me in a hotel dining-room in the same city a few 
days later. She seems to be very friendly with the diplomatic 
corps representing the Balkan states. It is true that she is 
the widow of a Frenchman, but she was born in Russia and 
her mother was a German woman, born in Berlin.” 

The Englishman was silent for a moment. “She has been 
quite a favorite in diplomatic circles in London for some 
time, but we have nothing against her record in London; 
though her name is listed as one of the people to keep an 
eye on.” 

“Some Americans in the city,” added Reaves, “have been 
entertained rather lavishly by her recently, and it is my 
desire to meet the lady and find out her game.” 

“I know your country is neutral,” said Cullen, “but you will 
do me a great personal favor and place my country under 
further obligations to you by finding out her business in 
London at the present time.” 

“Well, I shall try to find out her business with these 
Americans and if all goes well at the lunch which I am to 
have with your sister tomorrow, I will very probably have 
news for you within the next few days.” 

The next day a little before the appointed hour Reaves 
with Lady Helen was ushered to a table which had been 
reserved in a position so as to get a good view of the one 
reserved for the countess and her guest, and near enough 
to hear at least a part of their conversation. Their order 
had been given and they were indulging in some common¬ 
place conversation when their attention was suddenly at¬ 
tracted by voices from the direction of the door. The 
countess and her escort, a tall, handsome man with dark hair 
and mustache, were entering the room. 

Reaves could see every outline of his face, and his eyes 
narrowed as the man walked by him. The countess smiled 
and spoke to Helen as they passed. 

After the newcomers had taken their seats Reaves looked 
at Lady Helen and remarked casually: 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 131 


‘The countess is looking unusually well today.” 

“Oh, she is so pretty and attractive,” exclaimed Helen; 
and after a short pause, “she has been such a good friend, I 
simply can’t believe that she—” Reaves raised his hand 
slightly and shot a significant glance at her. 

She caught her breath suddenly, then he whispered softly— 

“Not so loud please. Now tell me have you ever seen her 
with the gentleman before?” 

She was thoughtful a moment before she answered. “I 
believe he is the same man I saw her with down at Brighton 
some time ago.” 

The countess and her companion were talking now, and 
the man was looking in their direction. The waiter was plac¬ 
ing their lunch before them. Reaves pretended to be looking 
out the window at something across the street, but instead 
he was all attention, trying to catch a word of their conver¬ 
sation. He had recognized the man the minute he saw his 
full face. The different places and circumstances under which 
he had seen him soon came to his mind. First, in Petrograd 
where he was frequently seen with members of the German 
Embassy; he had seen him also in Constantinople; on the 
Riviera; and the last time just before the war started. 
Before, he had given the man but little thought, but now 
that Europe was convulsed in war, this Italian nobleman, 
being in company with a woman who was suspected of being 
a spy for the central powers, became an interesting personage 
for investigation. Reaves knew that he and Lady Helen had 
excited the curiosity of the newcomers, but he did not believe 
that he had been recognized by either of them. In his atti¬ 
tude of abstraction he had the appearance of a stupid Eng¬ 
lishman, who had little interest in life. Lady Helen had 
begun to get a little restless, she did not know what had 
caused Reaves’ sudden stupidity. 

“I know they think we are terribly stupid,” she remarked. 

He turned his head and their eyes met, then he looked 
across the room as he fumbled his napkin. She thought 
from the expression on his face that he had lost interest in 
everything in general, but Reaves was a good actor, he knew 
that the countess’ eyes were boring into his profile and he 
wanted to appear as doltish as possible. 

“Can you hear what they are saying ?” he asked softly. 


132 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

“Hardly a word, but I am afraid I haven’t a trained ear 
such as experience has given you.” 

He smiled at her reply then he said, “You are getting your 
first lesson in secret service work for your government. We 
must keep up a semblance of conversation, though the main 
reason we are here is to catch every word we can of what is 
being said by the countess and her escort; but we must not 
appear to be interested in them at all.” 

She understood what he meant and immediately started 
talking about her friends who had entered the army, and 
what a comfort it was to have Miss Rotherford with her. 
She would point out to him the different people whom she 
knew as they came into the dining-room and tell him some¬ 
thing about their history and social life. They kept up a 
pretense of conversation until the other couple had almost 
finished their lunch, then they walked out and Lady Helen 
selected a seat just outside the dining-room where the count¬ 
ess would have to pass close by her on her way out. Reaves 
disappeared so there would be no excuse for the two girls 
not exchanging a few words of greeting as the countess 
passed by. He reasoned that the countess would probably 
want to have a few words with Lady Helen anyway, but her 
escort would want to avoid talking to Lady Helen if possible. 
Lady Helen followed Reaves’ instructions implicitly, and as 
she saw them come from the dining-room and turn and walk 
a little to one side, instead of coming with other diners who 
passed close by her, she arose from her seat and walked 
across to intercept them. 

“I am so glad to see you again,” said the countess extend¬ 
ing her slender, graceful hand to Lady Helen, and as her 
escort stopped she said, “permit me the pleasure of introduc¬ 
ing Prince Polini, of Italy.” 

The prince bowed low to Lady Helen, who acknowledged 
the introduction with a smile. 

At that moment Reaves approached facing Helen. He 
was not in the same mood he appeared to be back in the 
dining-room. He had all the manners of a gentleman gal¬ 
lant, and acknowledged the introductions in true European 
style. The prince eyed him coldly as he stood chatting with 
the countess. He hastened to appease the evident anxiety 
of his new acquaintance by letting them know that he was an 
American. The prince had started talking to Lady Helen, 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 133 

and Reaves turned to the countess, who was making a 
desperate effort to indulge in some pleasantry, and said: 

“It makes one feel good to meet someone who can smile, 
everyone in England seems to wear an expression cast in a 
mold.” 

“There is a reason Mr. Reaves; this war is a serious thing 
for England.” 

“It is really difficult for me, being an American, to appre¬ 
ciate the seriousness of the times, I suppose,” remarked 
Reaves. 

“Are you really an American?” asked the countess beam¬ 
ing with a most gracious smile. 

“I certainly am, Madam,” said Reaves with a gentle bow. 

“And over here early to help your English cousins,” the 
countess flung back at him and awaited with a bit of sur¬ 
passed anxiety for the effect of her words. 

He felt resentment at her insinuations and he wanted her 
to know that he resented it. His whole attitude changed as 
he looked at her quickly, her eyes met his and for a moment 
they stared into each other’s faces. 

“America,” he said a little icily, “is not at war with the 
central powers.” 

She dropped her eyes and looked away. She was plainly 
puzzled. He was a friend of Lady Helen, yet he seemed 
offended when she insinuated that he was in sympathy with 
England. She could not understand his attitude. She looked 
back at him, the smile had returned. 

“Let us not discuss the war,” she said. “I know a lot of 
Americans in the city and they are all good friends of mine.” 

“Whom do you know among the Americans here?” asked 
Reaves taking advantage of the opening. “Probably some of 
them are mutual friends, anyway I always like to meet 
people from my own country.” 

“Well, I know most of the diplomatic corps and a num¬ 
ber of others,” she replied evasively. After a moment she 
added, “I frequently have them around to tea. Can’t you 
come some afternoon?” 

“I am flattered. I should love to come any time you say.” 

“Come tomorrow afternoon at five,” she said as she started 
over to where the prince and Lady Helen were busily talking 
about some mutual friends who had just passed into the 
dining-room. 


XV 


The next afternoon Reaves purposely arrived at the 
countess’ tea a little late. Quite a number of Americans were 
there including guests from the embassy. The countess per¬ 
sonally took charge of him, and after introductions to the 
crowd and serving him with the inevitable cup of tea he 
proceeded to mingle with the crowd and join in the conver¬ 
sation about anything that came up for discussion. He 
strolled out on the porch, and was a little surprised to find 
Lady Helen engaged in conversation with Prince Polini. 

“The Prince has just been telling me,” she said, “about 
being in Russia and Germany a short time before war was 
declared.” 

“ What do you think of Russia’s ability to hold the Easter y 
front?” asked Reaves with but little show of interest. 

“The Russian army is neither well equipped nor well 
trained—besides it is filled with German sympathizers,” 
replied the prince rather seriously, and after a moment’s 
pause he added, “Russia can never stand against the iron 
discipline of the German army.” 

“The sentiment of Russia,” put in Reaves, “has never 
seemed to be solid against Germany; and, of course, a divi¬ 
sion of opinion may lead to unfortunate consequences.” 

“But Russia seems to be advancing rapidly,” put in Lady 
Helen. 

“Bosh,” sneered the prince, “a few regiments of German 
troops sent to the eastern front could drive the whole Rus¬ 
sian army back, as a shepherd drives an immense flock of 
sheep.” 

“They have German troops on the eastern front now, but 
they don’t seem to be driving our Allies back,” remarked 
Lady Helen. 

The prince looked at her coldly but did not speak. 
Presently she said: 

“The question is, what is Italy your country going to do 
about the war?” 


134 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 135 


Reaves was listening with apparently little interest. Lady 
Helen had without knowing it questioned the prince about 
the very things he wanted him to express an opinion on. 

“I cannot answer that question/’ replied the prince, after 
a moment of thought. “There is our treaty with the central 
powers, but undoubtedly our interests are more in common 
with England and at this moment the cabinet is considering 
the question of just which side to join.” 

For a moment the prince was silent. 

“What has Italy against France?” persisted Lady Helen 
with a child-like innocence. 

“Possibly you have forgotten that France took quite a 
slice of our territory in a war not so very many years 
ago,” the prince answered rather curtly. 

Reaves was not sure just where the prince stood, but did 
not care to discuss the matter with hint at that time, so he 
left the porch and went in search of the countess whom he 
found by the buffet, where the guests were being served 
drinks. The waiter prepared for him a whiskey and soda. 

“Won’t you give us a toast?” asked the countess, as he 
started to sip his drink. 

Lady Helen and the prince had entered the room and 
were standing facing him. He lifted his glass, his eyes rest¬ 
ing on the prince. 

“Here’s to America, may she never enter a war except 
in the cause of justice, liberty and democracy,” he said. 

There was general applause from the Americans present. 
Some of the others smiled, or made a graceful bow. 

“You should have been a diplomat,” remarked the count¬ 
ess, smiling at him. 

“I hate the word diplomat,” said Reaves. “I like the 
truth plainly spoken, and diplomacy does not always follow a 
straight line.” 

The countess walked over and stood close by him; the 
rest of the crowd were a few steps away. 

“Do you think Italy will join the Allies, Mr. Reaves?” 
she asked. 

“Really I am not posted on Italian politics,” he replied 
nonchalantly. Then looking at her, “You are a much- 
traveled and well-posted person; I should think you would 
have some good ideas on the question which seems to be 


136 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

all-important to England at the present time. Your friend 
the prince should be very familiar with the trend of affairs 
in his country/’ 

“Oh, the whole business is dreadful,” she exclaimed. “I 
don’t mind being a little free with you Americans, I have 
many good friends on both sides. For the last few years I 
have spent most of my time in Germany and Russia and 
sometimes I think that I ought to go back to the continent, 
but I am probably safe here for a time; at least until Ger¬ 
many attacks this country. I have a lot of friends in Eng¬ 
land and I feel so sorry for them. In six months Germany 
will have conquered France and then she will proceed to 
conquer England.” 

She gave a great sigh and looked away shaking her head 
slowly. 

“The English, it seems, have not yet realized the serious¬ 
ness of this war,” commented Reaves. 

“Germany knows everything that is going on here,” she 
remarked with a knowing look at Reaves, and after a moment 
added, “messages are wirelessed direct to Berlin from Lon¬ 
don. In a year Germany will rule the whole of Europe.” 

“Is the prince in the Italian diplomatic service?” asked 
Reaves unconcernedly. 

She looked up at him; he was apparently interested in the 
different people about the room and hardly conscious of 
having asked her a question. 

“He has been for quite a number of years,” was the reply. 
“He was in Petrograd, Vienna, and just before this terrible 
war started he was in Berlin.” 

She looked out through the window and gave a deep sigh 
then turning to Reaves she said: “He has been a great 
friend to me since the count’s death about two years ago.” 

“He was a friend of your husband I presume?” remarked 
Reaves. 

The countess was thoughtful for some moments, memories 
both sweet and bitter were running through her mind. She 
had known Prince Polini before she had married the count, 
and he had often visited their chateau in Southern France. 
She had met him in Russia, Vienna, Paris, Berlin and their 
acquaintance had ripened into something almost more than 
friendship. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 137 

“During the count’s lifetime,” she finally replied, “the 
prince was a frequent visitor at our home. He and my 
husband were in Oxford together; their friendship began 
there and lasted until the count’s death.” 

“I am sure he finds it a pleasant task to try to comfort his 
dead friend’s widow,” said Reaves. 

The countess looked at him and smiled. She wanted 
everyone to believe that the prince’s business in London 
was to conduct negotiations between Italy and England; 
she also wanted to leave the impression that a son of Italy 
and a daughter of France were very much interested in each 
other. She glanced at Lady Helen and looked back at Reaves 
with a smile. “What about an alliance between America and 
England?” she asked. 

He looked at Lady Helen and then back at the countess. 

“No such alliance is contemplated at the present time,” 
he answered with a smile. 

“Gentlemen do not take ladies out to luncheons without 
reasons, Mr. Reaves,” she continued, and after a moment’s 
hesitation, “Helen is so attractive.” 

“In other words, you saw Lady Helen and myself lunch¬ 
ing together at the Ritz and you immediately came to the 
conclusion that I was in love with her. You honor me but 
you are probably unfair to Lady Helen.” 

“My womanly instinct tells me that she thinks of you very 
seriously, but you strike me as being rather indifferent; or 
should I say impervious to woman’s smiles ?” 

“I am never indifferent, and it would be difficult for any 
man to resist Lady Helen’s smiles.” 

Helen had come up and was extending her hand to the 
countess, and saying something about how she enjoyed the 
little party. Reaves bowed rather stiffly to her as she started 
to leave. The countess looked at him with a reproachful 
smile, but she was now convinced that Reaves was at least 
not in love with Helen. 

“You Americans are unusual people, possessed of many 
peculiar characteristics,” she commented. 

“You mistake our personal and national traits of character 
for peculiar characteristics,” he retorted; “and I am prob¬ 
ably not a typical American with all the characteristics. I 
am afraid I am rather stupid and very selfish.” 


138 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“Why selfish ?” she asked. 

“Well, most men’s desires are stronger than their manners, 
for instance a moment ago, I wanted to remain here with 
you; though I should have accompanied Lady Helen home 
I remained here.” 

He looked around the room as though he had just then 
noticed it. “Most of the guests have gone,” he said, “and 
the prince has given me the unfriendly look of jealousy, so 
I, too, must depart.” 

“But won’t you come again? I want to talk to you,” she 
said almost pleadingly. 

“You make me glad that I did not depart with Lady 
Helen,” he replied, “and I shall hope to call again real soon.” 

“I shall expect you very soon,” she answered. 

He kissed the countess’ extended hand, bowed to Prince 
Polini and made his departure. 


XVI 


Frederick Reaves had enjoyed his so-called vacation in 
London and it had given him an opportunity to think over 
all that had taken place in Europe the past few months, and 
form some opinion of the whole European situation. As 
news poured in from the battle area little details of the 
horrors following in the wake of the German army continued 
to leak out. Old people, women and children had received 
brutal treatment from the hands of the soldiers; inoffensive 
citizens were stood against the wall and shot. Cities and 
towns were burned. “Kill and destroy,” was the slogan of 
the great invading host. To his mind cruelty and w'anton 
destruction were unnecessary, certainly not necessary to the 
extent it was being practiced by the German army. He was 
almost unconsciously becoming prejudiced against the cen¬ 
tral powers and his sympathies for what was then called the 
Triple Entente were growing stronger. 

The half-hearted way in which the English people seemed 
to be fighting the war at that time seemed to be something 
which he, a man of action, could not understand. Recruiting 
was slow and the people in general did not appear to take the 
war seriously. He had long since learned that London was 
harboring a host of spies and at that time was a hotbed of 
political intrigue. He felt certain that by remaining in Lon¬ 
don and cultivating the friendship of the prince and the 
countess and other people of their set, he could discover 
many secrets which would be valuable to England and her 
allies; but he was an American and America had declared 
her neutrality. He had a right to fight under a foreign flag 
if he so desired, but did he have sufficient reason? He re¬ 
turned to Lord Cullen’s home that afternoon feeling rather 
blue. He went into the library and for some time he walked 
the floor back and forth restlessly, finally stopping in front 
of a window which opened out on the veranda. Miss Rother- 
ford alone had just entered the walk and was coming towards 

139 


140 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

the house. He ran to the door and opened it—before she 
had time to ring the bell. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed with a smile and a show of surprise, 
“when did you turn butler?” 

“The moment I saw you coming up the walk,” he replied, 
taking her by the arm as she entered. 

He led her into the library and to where they could see 
what was going on in the street. She felt that he wanted to 
talk to her, and stood still waiting for him to speak. 

When he looked at her his eyes were soft; a faint smile 
was upon his lips. 

“I guess I am homesick,” he said, “for America and some 
sure-enough American people. A man may stay away from 
his country and friends for years when he is busy with im¬ 
portant duties, but the human side, the desire for home and 
friends will eventually assert itself.” 

A great feeling of sympathy welled up in Miss Rother- 
ford’s heart. This man who had been so relentless in exact¬ 
ing absolute obedience from her and her fiance in a time of 
danger had completely surrendered in the quiet invironment 
of a home. 

“If I didn’t know you so well,” she smiled, “I would al¬ 
most think you are about to make love to me.” He had taken 
a step toward the window and was gazing out with troubled 
eyes. 

“My feelings for you,” he said without moving, “need but 
little explanation. You are the fiancee of my friend, and you 
are an American girl, the only one I have seen for some 
time. I wish,” he continued after a moment’s hesitation, 
“that you could forget for the moment that you are engaged 
to an Englishman.” 

“At least you can forget it,” she replied. 

He turned his head slowly. She was anxiously looking 
into his troubled face. He had learned to trust her implicitly 
and had great confidence in her judgment from a woman’s 
point of view. 

Between two people of their calibre there is no use for one 
to ask the other to be discreet or keep a secret. Such people 
are by nature trustworthy. She saw plainly that he wanted 
to trust her with some secrets, but she hesitated to speak of 
them. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 141 


“Something is worrying you, Mr. Reaves/’ she finally said, 
“and isn’t there something I can do?” 

There was another moment’s silence—then he uttered the 
name “Theresa” softly, and stopped. 

“Yes,” said Miss Rotherford, “poor girl, I saw her in 
Berlin after you had helped Lord Cullen to escape from that 
horrible prison, and while you were still making the flight 
from; Germany, she was in great distress because—she was 
afraid you would be apprehended. She was in tears several 
times during our last interview.” 

She stopped and looked at him hoping that he would give 
her a further insight into his mysterious relations with 
Theresa. He turned towards her slowly. His face wore the 
same masked expression. 

“Does a woman ever forget, or is it that she always for¬ 
gets ?” he asked. 

She could not help smiling and replied, “You have asked 
me a double question, and likewise I shall give you a double 
answer.” 

“A woman does not forget the man she loves; but if un¬ 
pleasant things come up between them the woman always 
forgets them unless a matter of principle is involved, and 
in that case she never forgets. But in the case of you and 
Theresa,” she added with a smile, “it was simply a lover’s 
quarrel and nothing more.” 

“You are indeed quite well qualified. Miss Rotherford, to 
fill the diplomatic post of wife of one of England’s great 
statesmen,” then looking at her quickly, “I have an idea 
Theresa told you many things and asked you many times 
not to tell.” 

“I do not pretend to be diplomatic,” she replied, a little 
coolly, resenting his insinuation, “and Theresa told me very 
little, though her actions convinced me more than words 
could have told, that she cares for you very much at the 
present time.” 

“There are times in every man’s life, regardless of condi¬ 
tions or circumstances, that he feels he must unburden at 
least a part of his trouble to a woman. Boys talk to their 
mothers, young men to their sweethearts, husbands to their 
wives, and others like mie talk to some acquaintance,” he 
said. 


142 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

Reaves felt that Miss Rotherford was a sort of sacred 
charge. It could hardly be said that he approved of her 
approaching marriage with Lord Cullen. He had always 
been opposed to American girls marrying foreign titles, but 
had been content to express that opinion when he so desired, 
and further than that it was none of his affair. In this case 
he felt no pangs of jealously towards his friend because he 
was to wed one of America’s great heiresses. He was sure 
that nothing Miss Rotherford or anyone else could say would 
influence his ultimate decision as what was the best course 
for him to pursue towards Theresa, or would have any bear¬ 
ing on his attitude towards the nations at war. 

Frederick Reaves carried in his mind many secrets of the 
nations at war. It was, let us say, poisoned with knowledge 
of secret intrigue which was going on in the world, and he 
felt it would be a great relief if he could dilute the poison by 
pouring a part of it into other trustworthy ears, and Miss 
Rotherford understood at least to some extent his position. 
He turned to her, she had been waiting silently for him to 
renew the conversation. 

“I have gradually let myself be led on by circumstances 
until I have gotten into things which probably would have 
been better for me to have stayed out of, being an Ameri¬ 
can. I should never have taken any interest in the secrets 
of European nations other than in so far as they concern 
America. America may have to enter this war before it is 
over to save civilization, but we are not fighting the central 
powers at the present time.” 

“Then you really think America will fight with the English 
if it is necessary, don’t you?” said Miss Rotherford suddenly, 
showing her delight at his expressed opinion. 

“I do not wish to go on record as having expressed my 
positive belief. When I left Berlin I decided to come to 
London for a short time in order that I might have peace and 
quiet in which to think things over. While to all students of 
events, conditions and developments it has been plain for 
several years that we would have a great European war, 
the fact that it is actually going on, with all of its horrors 
almost staggers for the moment the human mind.” 

“It is one thing to feel something terrible is going to 
happen, but a more serious thing to be in the midst of it 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 143 


while it is going on. I had a few matters to look after here 
in London, but further than that I had no definite plans. 
You probably have noticed that I have been away from the 
house a great deal since our little party arrived in the city. 
Well, more from curiosity than anything else. I wanted 
to check up on the movements of several people whom I 
have known in different parts of the world, and to my sorrow 
I have learned secrets which are of immense importance to 
England and her allies.” 

“You are going to tell Lord Cullen about these things, 
aren’t you?” put in Miss Rotherford. 

His whole attitude changed; he looked at her sternly. 

“I have not decided yet. The British secret service should 
have discovered them long ago. In fact, England is not 
taking the interest in the war that she should. One does not 
mind straining a point to help people who are doing all they 
can for themselves, but in this case there is a state of dis¬ 
interestedness which seems to reach to the very heart of 
England.” 

Miss Rotherford had seen many evidences of the truth of 
his statements, but on account of Lord Cullen she felt a slight 
resentment at what he had said. 

“Lord Cullen and the other m,en at the war office,” she 
said, “seem to be of your opinion, but they are taking steps 
now to get the people interested. Lord Kitchener is raising 
an army, and the navy is clearing the seas. The English 
people have always been slow to get into action, but once 
started there are no better soldiers in the world.” 

She hesitated a moment and looking steadily at him said, 
“America should come in this war now before it is too late— 
our interests and our sympathies are with England and her 
allies.” 

“You have reasons for your belief but I think the wise 
thing for me to do under the circumstances is to return to 
America and await developments.” 

She did not know how to reply to the last remark. She 
felt certain that he would not give up what he had started 
to do and return to America, but she wanted him to tell her 
something of his plans and the fact that he had trusted her 
with some of his secrets led her to believe that he would trust 
her with others, if she could get him to talk. She knew that 


144 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

the great question in his mind was whether or not he should 
offer his services to England. She also thought that he 
eventually would, and that on account of her engagement to 
Lord Cullen, he would think her arguments along that line 
biased; therefore, she did not urge him to enlist, but as she 
looked at his drawn face, distress and agitation were show¬ 
ing in every feature. She wanted to console him, yet she 
was afraid to speak the thought in her mind. Finally she 
mastered sufficient courage to speak, she looked away and 
said almost hopelessly: 

“You are such a mystery to us all and your reserve seems 
impenetrable; but notwithstanding it all I understand your 
feelings in some things and you have my sympathy. I wish 
so much I—or we could help you.” She raised her eyes to 
his, “I have so often watched you and at the same time 
thought of Theresa.” 

He turned his head slowly and looked at her, a forced 
smile was about his lips. “I cannot explain now,” he said, 
“some day though I hope to tell you the whole sad story.” 

“Of course,” she said cautiously, “there is no hurry, I 
only want you to know that I am ready to do anything I can 
for you and Theresa. Your actions are sufficiently mysteri¬ 
ous to make your friends a little curious to know the whole 
truth. If I had only known about it before I met her, I 
might have been able to help you come to some under¬ 
standing.” 

After a moment’s hesitation he said, “A certain amount of 
unhappiness comes into the life of every man, but both 
common sense and philosophy teach us to get what innocent 
pleasure we can out of it by doing our duty always, but it 
is often quite a problem to know just what one’s duty is.” 

They heard voices in the hall and Lady Helen and her 
brother entered the room with some friends who had come 
to make up a dinner party. 

After dinner was served Reaves excused himself early and 
hurried downtown. He had learned many interesting secrets 
during his stay in London, more than once America had 
been mentioned by the plotters and he did not intend to leave 
London until he had gotten the facts concerning plots against 
his own country. He went direct to the hotel, and as he 
passed through the lobby he recognized two men who were 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 145 


there at his bidding. He continued on up to a room and 
as he passed along he noticed Prince Polini and a small group 
of men in one of the private sitting-rooms. In a few min¬ 
utes the two men whom he had recognized followed him. As 
they entered his room he closed the door and locked it. 
He stood for a minute looking from one to the other and 
then motioned them to seats on one side of a small table and 
seated himself on the opposite side of the table facing them. 

“What have you to report ?” he asked, looking at the man 
on his right. 

“Nothing of importance, sir. I have stuck close on the 
trail of Prince Polini for three days and nights and he has 
spent his mornings at his hotel, afternoons and evenings at 
the apartment of the Countess St. Cere. Last night they 
drove here with a man from the Italian Embassy and an¬ 
other gentleman who I think is from the Roumanian Legation. 
He has had several visitors in his apartment, both men and 
women, and I got some of their names. Last night, sir, 
there was a meeting at the countess’ apartment; a number of 
strangers attended and the butler gave me the names of most 
of them; the prince was there also.” Taking an envelope 
from his pocket he handed it to Reaves as he said, “Here, sir, 
is my report, which you will find contains a list of the count¬ 
ess’ visitors besides other information which I think will 
interest you.” 

Reaves read the report while the two men sat quietly and 
waited. When he had finished, he looked up and said, “You 
have done well, report to me again tomorrow.” He then 
turned to the other without speaking. The man knew Reaves 
meant for him to proceed with his report. 

“I have talked to a man from the Spanish Embassy, sir, 
and he tells me that Germany has asked his country to inter¬ 
cede for them to keep America from making munitions and 
guns for the Allies, and to try to negotiate a loan for Ger¬ 
many. I learned also from the same source that the German 
Federation of Labor was appealing to American labor or¬ 
ganizations asking them to refuse to make ammunition for 
the Allies. I have made the rounds of all the recruiting sta¬ 
tions in London, and have a list of the names of all Ameri¬ 
cans who have enlisted in London, with the number of the 


146 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


regiment to which they belong.” When he had finished he 
handed Reaves his written report. 

He looked at it for a minute then said, “That is all, con¬ 
tinue on the job and report to me again when you have 
something interesting.” 

Reaves sat quite still for some minutes summing up in his 
mind the whole European situation as he saw it at that time. 
He had gathered information from many sources since his 
arrival in London. America was not being plotted against 
to any great extent. Italy, Turkey and the Balkan states 
were the centers of diplomatic interest. It was generally 
conceded that Italy would break her treaty and join the 
Allies. Turkey would sooner or later join the central powers, 
and the Balkans were waiting to join the winning side so as 
to get a share of the spoils. The German army had ap¬ 
proached dangerously close to Paris and a certain element of 
French statesemen were in favor of disgraceful peace, dic¬ 
tated by the Kaiser. Concessions in Egypt and the Far East 
were offered France by Germany. Several statesmen repre¬ 
senting the majority party in Turkey were also mixed up in 
the schemes in some way; so he decided to keep a close watch 
on them until he learned more about their plans. 

Some days later Reaves appeared at the British war office 
and had a long conference with Lord Cullen and other 
officials. 

After much serious thought he had at last decided to enter 
the service of England and her allies. He was given the 
commission of Major in the Air Service, but on detached 
duty with passes to go anywhere he pleased, and his instruc¬ 
tions were to use his own judgment in all matters he might 
undertake, and call on headquarters for any assistance needed. 
On learning that the countess had suddenly left for Paris he 
decided that the headquarters of foreign spies must be in 
that city and he made his arrangements to leave London 
immediately. When he went aboard the boat at Folkstone, 
he found Prince Polini a passanger on the same steamer. 
The prince seeing him in uniform came up with a surprised 
air, and they immediately engaged in a friendly conversation 
concerning the war. 

“England seems very much concerned,” remarked Reaves, 
“about the attitude of your country at the present.” The 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 147 


prince took another puff at his cigarette then stood for a 
moment looking at the broad expanse of the sea. 

“It is rather a serious question with the Triple Entente,” 
he finally answered. “It is also a most complex and diffi¬ 
cult problem for my country. Germany offers us great in¬ 
ducements, but the central powers must eventually lose the 
war because in the end America is going to be the deciding 
factor.” 

“America is not thinking of entering the war on either side 
at the present,” protested Reaves. 

“Well,” replied the prince knowingly, “she will have to 
sooner or later, and you Americans are bound to the English 
by the indissoluble chains of blood and temperament. With 
the present line-up of the nations and America on the side 
of the Allies, the rest of the world could not win the war.” 

He stopped and his thoughts seemed to be far away. 
Reaves watched him for a moment in silence. It is impos¬ 
sible that the prince is in sympathy with the countess’ atti¬ 
tude and conduct towards the allied cause he said to himself. 
There was mystery about his associations with the countess 
and her circle of acquaintances. Probably the prince not 
knowing which side his country would join, was getting all 
the information he could so that he could make a more com¬ 
plete report to his government. 

Reaves looking at him ventured to remark, “The political 
situation seems to be very much in a jumble at the present 
time.” 

“It has never been more complex,” was the prompt reply, 
and after a moment’s hesitation, “every capital in Europe is a 
hotbed of intrigue, each nation fearing, as you Americans 
would say, that something will be put over on them.” 

“London seems to have been headquarters for the plotters 
until recently,” said Reaves. 

“Yes,” replied the prince, “and England lets things drift 
as though she is not much interested, interning a few Ger¬ 
man people and arresting a spy occasionally seems to satisfy 
them. The war office should get busy and put a stop to 
what is going on right in their midst.” 

“You are quite right,” said Reaves, “I have made some 
investigations and found out a few things on my own.” 

“I suspected you had,” said the prince looking at him, 


148 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

“when I first met you with Lady Helen at the Ritz, but I 
did not tell the Countess St. Cere, nor do I expect to tell 
her. The count himself was a very patriotic, loyal French¬ 
man and I am at a loss to understand the countess’ attitude 
towards France and her allies unless it is the strain of 
German blood in her.” 

For a moment Reaves thought of Theresa, whose father 
was a full-blooded German, and he wondered if her German 
blood would be the deciding factor in her conduct towards 
him; so far it had not but he did not know what to expect 
if he returned to Berlin. 

Finally he turned to the prince, “The countess,” he said, 
“has been guilty of gross indiscretions directed at France and 
England.” 

The prince looked at him quickly, then looked away. 
“Yes,” he said, “Lady Helen mentioned the matter to me 
while I was calling at her home one evening and I afterwards 
talked to Lord Cullen about it. I have also advised the 
countess to stay out of politics, but she has so far not taken 
my advice. As you probably have noticed I am extremely 
fond of the countess, but we disagree about a number of 
political questions.” 

“I am delighted to know you do not agree with the count¬ 
ess in her political views,” said Reaves. 

After a few words about the war in general, the prince left 
him, and Reaves soon found a deck chair and proceeded to 
take a smoke and think things over. He had gotten more 
information from the prince than he expected, and was glad 
to learn that he was not mixed up in the political intrigue 
that the countess seemed to be fostering. He reviewed in 
his mind rapidly the events of the past few months; his stay 
in Berlin, the beginning of the war, his meeting Miss Rother- 
ford, his helping Lord Cullen to escape from Germany. He 
was not sure that he was glad to have again run across 
Theresa, but she had certainly proved that she still cared for 
him. For the present he must dismiss all serious thought of 
her from his mind. The countess had gone to Paris to meet 
some friends, and he must find out if those friends were the 
people who at that time were plotting against the Allies. 
It had gotten dark and there was not a light to be seen any¬ 
where on the boat. The British had long since learned their 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 149 


lesson and the submarines had already taken heavy toll in 
ships and human lives. 

Soldiers with their packs were sleeping on benches and 
in chairs, and the floor of every deck was covered with men 
stretched out using their packs for pillows. It could hardly 
be said that Reaves was content with the mission he had 
undertaken. He could have returned to America and spent 
his time fishing, hunting, playing golf, and watching the 
European situation from the standpoint of a neutral, but his 
was a nature which craved excitement; besides, America 
would some day enter the war and as he would have no 
reasonable excuse for staying out he would certainly offer 
his services then, so why not now? And then he did not like 
to let himself think about it seriously, but hidden deep in his 
mind he felt that it was Theresa that caused him to decide to 
enlist in England and go back to the continent. He arose 
from his uncomfortable seat and picked his way in the dark¬ 
ness to the deck of the ship, peering out into the darkness on 
either side, he could distinguish the faint outline of two 
dark objects moving on parallel lines with the ship. A faint 
smile spread over his face—they were British destroyers— 
many a soldier's heart had beat lighter when on looking out 
from a port hole, he saw the faithful watchdogs of the sea 
keeping abreast and a little distance away from the steamer 
on which he was sailing. 

Reaves had been in Paris for some time, and he had spent 
a part of every day at the aviation field near the city. He 
must learn something about the mechanism of the German 
aeroplanes and learn to fly them. Several had been captured 
and the French and English aviators were making a special 
study of them, so he had expert instructors during the short 
time he was there. Soon he would go back to Berlin and it 
might become necessary for him to leave very hurriedly and 
an aeroplane might help him to get away. 

Prince Polini had stayed about Paris several days visiting 
the Countess St. Cere frequently, but he took his departure 
rather hurriedly one evening and he was at that time in 
Switzerland. The countess seemed fixed for some time to 
come in an apartment at her hotel. She was continually 
under surveillance and her visiting list was watched very 
closely. Under the role of newspaper correspondent he had 


150 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


called at her apartment several times. He learned one day 
that the prince was attending a secret conference in Switzer¬ 
land and that matters of importance were being considered, 
so he decided to go there immediately. 

The following day he crossed the border. He was again 
to be the man of mystery. He felt certain that the trail 
would eventually lead to Berlin, and he knew that if he went 
back into the enemy’s country he would be taking his life in 
his own hands; but if he succeeded in discovering the secret 
alliance Germany was trying to make with Turkey and the 
Balkan states no risk was too great. As the train sped along 
on its way to Switzerland his thoughts went back to Theresa. 
Now that he would probably soon be where he could see her 
his mind was filled with doubts; his memory with thoughts 
of the past. If he could only depend on her, she would be 
of incalculable value to him in carrying out certain of his 
plans, but she was emotional and sentimental, and he dared 
not trust secrets of international affairs to a person of such 
child-like nature. As he thought of the old days when 
Theresa meant so much to him he almost wished that he was 
going direct to Berlin, but as he recalled that she was always 
an unknown quantity, his thoughts were mingled with deeper 
apprehensions and anxieties. 

Before alighting from the train he took particular pains 
to make his disguise perfect, and well that he did for while 
he was registering at the hotel Prince Polini came into the 
hotel with a gentleman whom he took to be distinctly Ger¬ 
man. While he did not particularly distrust the prince he 
did not want him to know he was there to spy on the confer¬ 
ence. He bided his time and while the party was at dinner 
that evening, he went into a room which was occupied by 
one of his French colleagues and adjoining that in which the 
secret meetings were held. After examining it carefully he 
pulled the bed back from the wall between the two rooms. 
He then took his pocketknife and made a half-moon shape 
slit in the wall paper and while the Frenchman held up the 
flap, he took from his pocket an auger and bored a hole 
through the wall leaving the paper unbroken on the opposite 
side. From another pocket he took a little instrument and 
slipped it into the hole thus made, and attached to it two 
small wires to each of which in turn was attached a small 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 151 


earpiece. He handed one to the Frenchman and put the 
other to his own ear. Not a sound could be heard; the occu¬ 
pants were still at dinner. They moved the bed silently back 
against the wall and concealed the earpieces beneath the 
pillows. His work finished, he turned to the smiling French¬ 
man and said: 

“It can now truly be said, ‘even the very walls have ears/ ” 

For several nights and days there was hardly a moment 
that either Reaves or the Frenchman was not listening to 
what was said in the conference room, and in a few days 
after the conference ended, the Frenchman was on his way 
back to Paris with a full report, interlined with many sugges¬ 
tions from Reaves, while Reaves himself was on his way to 
Berlin. 

sfc sf: sit sjc ;}t 

There was a gentle tap at the door. Gus Lenaire suddenly 
awakened, raised his head from his pillow, all was quiet. He 
held his sleepy head in his hand, his elbow resting on the 
pillow. The old clock on the mantelpiece struck three. Not¬ 
withstanding the time of night, the stillness was unusual for 
Berlin since the beginning of the war. Was it just a dream, 
he thought, and not the signal known only to Frederick 
Reaves and himself? He thought of the great danger to 
Reaves if he should return to Berlin, and while his funds 
were running low and he wanted to see his benefactor he 
was afraid and almost hoped he was mistaken. Again the 
gentle tapping, a little more insistent. This time he could 
not be mistaken. It could be none other than he, and as he 
bounded for the door a feeling of joy mingled with fear 
gripped him. He opened the door a little distrustfully and 
thrust his head through the opening. For a moment he 
stood without speaking. He could see only the faintest out¬ 
line of a man which did not look like Reaves standing on 
the threshold. 

“Who’s there?” he asked in German. 

“Hello, Gus, how are you ?” came back the familiar voice, 
as the surprised man stepped back and opened the door for 
Reaves to enter. 

“No lights,” said Reaves as he took Gus by the hand and 
started into the room. “We can do our talking in the dark, 


152 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

and, too, I want a little sleep. I haven’t had a good night’s 
rest for three weeks and we can talk tomorrow.” 

“I am so afraid for you, sir,” said the old man with a 
trembling voice, “so many spies have been caught in the city 
and shot, sir.” 

“Have they been to your house looking for anyone, Gus?” 
Reaves asked. 

“No, sir, not yet, but I am so afraid for you, sir. You 
will have to leave the city again soon, sir.” 

“We will talk about that tomorrow, Gus. Now let’s go to 
bed. Awaken me at ten o’clock in the morning. Good¬ 
night, Gus.” 

At ten o’clock sharp Gus opened the door of Reaves room 
slowly and peeped in and stood still watching his slow regu¬ 
lar breathing. Not a shadow disturbed his countenance. He 
was sleeping in perfect peace. Yet Gus knew that Reaves 
realized the great risk he was taking in coming back to 
Berlin, his perfect calm, in face of such dangers was more 
than Gus could understand. 

Reaves had trained himself to awaken when his room was 
entered and Gus was not a little surprised, when he opened 
his eyes, and seeing him standing there, thinking that he was 
already late he jumped out of bed and started taking a cold 
sponge bath as he said, “Bread and chocolate please, Gus.” 

“You are not going out, sir, I hope,” replied the old man. 

Reaves looked around. Gus’s face wore a troubled expres¬ 
sion. 

“Do you think it would be risky?” he asked. 

“Very dangerous, sir, so many spies are being shot, sir, 
and they would give a whole regiment to catch you. That 
Captain Heine says he is going to get you some day.” 

“So I hear,” said Reaves, as he continued taking his bath, 
“but in times like these somebody has to take a chance,” and 
looking at him significantly he added, “and there are various 
reasons for a man risking his life sometimes you know, 
Gus.” 

“Yes, sir, I know, sir. Miss Beeman was here yesterday 
talking about you.” 

Reaves gave a little laugh and patted the old man on the 
shoulder. “So you think it is Miss Beeman that brought me 
back, do you, Gus ?” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 153 


“Well, she is worth a man risking his life for, if the need 
should be, sir.” 

Reaves had found a razor and was standing before an old 
mirror shaving himself. 

“Could you really imagine me in love, Gus?” he asked, 
without turning his head. 

“I hardly know, sir. I hoped you would not fall in love. 
A man is taking a chance, sir, a great chance. Women is 
different from what they used to be when I was young.” 

Reaves laughed outright, and waited to see if the old man 
would talk more about the modern philosophy of the fair 
sex. 

After some hesitation Gus added, “But, of course, sir, 
Miss Beeman is different, and she is interested in you, sir. 
I can see the way she acts since you’ve been away.” 

“How has she been acting since I have been away?” he 
asked, looking at old Gus with a smile. 

“Well, sir, lots of ways different, but one thing I noticed 
particular, every time I see her I tell her you are coming 
back some time and she gets a little excitable, sir, not much, 
sir, but I can tell.” 

“Didn’t you get a little excited last night when you heard 
my familiar rap on your door?” 

“Yes, sir, but that’s a different feeling,” said Gus, shaking 
his head slowly. 

Reaves had finished shaving and was getting into some 
clothes he had left with Gus when he and Lord Cullen had 
to leave Germany so hurriedly. He turned to the old man 
who was still ready to continue the conversation. “Well, 
Gus,” he said, “I shall at least have to tell you a part of my 
secrets. A woman played some part in my plans to return 
to the city but the woman is not Miss Beeman. Now please 
hurry with my bread and chocolate, I have many things for 
you to do today.” 

In a very few minutes he was back, and after placing the 
dejeuner on the little table he turned to leave the room. 

“Gus,” he called. The old man stopped suddenly with his 
hands on the door knob. “Come back and take a seat op¬ 
posite me,” continued Reaves in the voice that Gus knew so 
well and was glad to hear. It meant to Gus that the man 
who had done so much for him, in fact was the source of his 


154 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

very existence, had again turned his mind to the serious 
question of seeking information for the Allies. . Reaves 
passed him a roll of German money the size of which made 
him gasp with astonishment. It was Reaves’ policy to pay 
well the lower class of people from whom he got information, 
or helped him in any way. Buy them, he said, was the only 
sure way of guaranteeing their loyalty. 

“Where is your son, Corporal Lenaire, Gus?” 

“He is still at the internment camp, sir.” 

“Were any charges brought against him when Lord Cullen 
escaped from camp?” 

“He was not molested, sir. They did not suspect that he 
was the man who turned the lights out. The officer in charge 
of the guard, sir, was court-martialed.” Reaves nodded his 
head. 

“Where can Miss Beeman be found, Gus?” 

“She is working with the Red Cross, sir, and goes out to 
see my son sometimes.” 

“Where is Captain Heine?” 

“He was at the war office yesterday, sir, and the whole city 
is covered with his men.” 

“I want to talk to Miss Beeman; can you find her, 
Gus?” 

“Yes, sir, but she may not be able to come right away.” 

“Well, you go and find her and tell her to come here if 
she can, and if she cannot to send me word where I can meet 
her some time after dark this evening, and after you deliver 
my message to her go to see your son and Clicot, and get all 
the information you can about things in general and specially 
about the movements of Captain Heine and his men, then 
report to me. I shall await here until you return, and before 
you start bring me the morning papers, and the papers for 
three days back.” Gus brought in the newspapers and 
departed immediately to carry out his orders. 

Reaves, feeling much rested from several hours’ sleep, 
picked up his pipe and stuffed it full of good, old American 
tobacco which he had left with Gus, and leaned back in the 
old rocking chair and picked up the papers, starting with 
the issues of three days back. The war news was the same 
scant report, slight advances were made in the west and more 
Russian prisoners were taken in the East. The news of the 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 155 


diplomatic tangles was what he was looking for. He scanned 
the pages of the first two days and picked up the issue of the 
day before. He was greeted with a headline in large type: 

“GERMANY SOON TO REALIZE HER DREAM. 
Italy will carry out her part of the Triple Alliance, Bul¬ 
garia and Roumania also to join the central powers.” 

He smiled to himself as he thought of the report he had 
sent back from Switzerland, and that steps had already been 
taken to counteract what Germany thought she accomplished 
at the conference. 

He picked up the current issue of the Zeitung and his eyes 
at once caught sight of the headline in the first column which 
ran, “Important information has recently leaked out from a 
secret conference between Germany and her allies. The 
well-known American diplomatic freelance, who helped Lord 
Cullen to escape from the internment camp some months 
ago, is believed to have had a hand in the affair.” 

“Better than I expected,” he mused. “They don’t even 
know that I am in Germany yet.” He spent most of the day 
reading and figuring out a plan of action. 

Late in the afternoon Gus returned, and questioning him 
very closely, Reaves secured valuable information as to 
what had been going on during his absence. 

Later in the evening Miss Beeman called and detailed to 
him what information she had gotten, and what she had 
accomplished during his absence. She had seen Theresa 
Busch frequently. Reaves ever mindful of Theresa’s change¬ 
able temperament was quick to make use of the opportunity 
to get all the information he could concerning her move¬ 
ments. 

“Tell me,” he asked, with quickened interest, “where is 
Theresa and what is her attitude towards me.” 

The girl before him took her eyes from his and for a 
moment looked out through the window. 

She felt keenly the effect of Reaves’ penetrating eyes while 
she thought over the question which had been uppermost in 
her mind since the moment she heard Reaves had returned. 
To her Theresa’s past acquaintance with him was still a 
mystery, and Theresa’s impulsive nature and her changeable 
opinions, kept her a bit anxious about what she might do. 
She knew little but had thought much of their acquaintance 


156 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

in America and Reaves’ present feelings towards Theresa. 
While she was meditating over what answer to make to his 
question Reaves broke the long silence himself. 

“Miss Beeman, I want the truth and you must not hesi¬ 
tate to tell me all that you know or suspect.” 

“I know very little,” she replied, as she turned to face him, 
“and what I suspect is not worth mentioning.” 

“Tell me what you suspect,” he persisted. 

She turned quickly and fixed cold, penetrating eyes upon 
him. 

“You are holding something from me, Mr. Reaves,” she 
said, “and that something hampers me in my work here in 
Berlin. Your attitude of silence concerning Theresa Busch 
is dangerous to us both. The authorities believe you are in 
Berlin now, and they hope to use Theresa as a bait to catch 
you.” 

“But,” replied Reaves hesitatingly, “don’t you think that 
if Theresa is properly handled she could be of great service 
to us?” 

“Oh, yes, she might,” said Miss Beeman, “but the girl is 
young and inexperienced in matters of diplomacy. It would 
be risky to trust important secrets to her. To me she is 
what you Americans call a bundle of contradictions whose 
emotions and opinions change with every slight turn in the 
tide of circumstances. While I know she is an American 
citizen, yet I do not trust her German blood.” 

“I do trust her,” said Reaves, “but she is not as you say 
experienced in handling international secrets and as for our 
past it will not have any bearing on my work here. My 
patriotism is stronger than my sentiments. I have thrown in 
my lot with England and her allies and I shall disregard all 
personal feelings and be absolutely relentless towards enemies 
and friends in the pursuit of secrets which will be of benefit 
to the cause.” 

“I believe every word you say,” snapped Miss Beeman 
icily. “You would even sacrifice the woman who loves you 
if you thought she was not absolutely patriotic.” 

“Yes, if the woman I loved should prove to be a traitor 
to her country and give information to the enemy, even 
though I might be married to her, I would deem her an 
enemy to my country and treat her as such.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 157 


Miss Beeman arose from her seat and took a few steps 
towards the door, then turned and faced Reaves. 

‘‘I would advise you to see Theresa,” she said slowly, 
“before you venture about Berlin, even in disguise.” 

“I want you to arrange for me to have a talk with her at 
the earliest possible moment,” he replied sternly. 

Miss Beeman had her hand on the door knob, but she 
turned quickly and studied his face for a moment. 

“You will hear from me tomorrow,” she said as she opened 
the door. 

“And Miss Beeman, do you fully realize how I am depend¬ 
ing on you ?” 

“I have never failed when I was entrusted with important 
work, have I?” she said, looking back over her shoulder as 
she disappeared through the door. 


XVII 


Theresa had taken a studio apartment and was making 
attempts at painting. Captain Heine was still paying court 
to her and came to see her frequently. Miss Beeman re¬ 
ported to Reaves that after talking with Theresa she was not 
sure of her loyalty, therefore did not tell her that he had 
returned to the city. After thinking over his situation care¬ 
fully, Reaves decided that it was necessary for him to see 
her himself and find out just where she stood. If her sym¬ 
pathies were with Germany and she cared for Captain Heine, 
she would probably try to turn him over to the military 
authorities, but how could she under the circumstances ? He 
chose six o’clock as the most suitable hour to pay Theresa a 
visit. Most people would be at dinner and there would be 
but fewi people on the street, therefore he would be less apt 
to be seen. Before venturing out he studied his disguise 
carefully, paying strict attention to the minutest details. 
Gus came in to bring his supper and seeing him in disguise 
stopped still with the tray in his hand. 

‘‘You are going out, sir?” 

“Yes; why, Gus?” 

“I am afraid something will happen, sir.” 

“Can’t help it, Gus. I have work to do and must take 
chances.” 

He placed the food on the table and left the room without 
speaking another word. A few minutes later he returned. 
Reaves was taking a last look at himself before leaving the 
house. 

“This little trip tonight, Gus, will determine whether or 
not I am to stay in Berlin or make a hasty departure.” He 
put his hand on the old man’s shoulder and looked at him 
with a smile. “If I don’t return tonight look in the morning 
papers, and if you see no mention of me you can say that 
Frederick Reaves is again only a shadow, and tell Miss 
Beeman that I said look after you. I will show up here again 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 159 


some time.” He opened the door and disappeared into the 
darkness. 

Remembering Miss Beeman’s warning that Theresa would 
be used as a bait to catch him he approached the house 
cautiously, looking constantly for anyone who might be on 
the lookout for him, but at that time of the evening the 
streets were deserted, only an occasional vehicle, or pedes¬ 
trian could be seen hurrying to a place of shelter from the 
biting cold. He reached the house in safety and ascended 
the one flight of steps and pressed the button beneath the 
card which bore the name of Theresa Busch. The door was 
opened by a maid who appraised him with a suspicious 
glance. 

After giving a fictitious name and stating that he wished 
to speak to Miss Busch on important business he was ushered 
into a large reception room, neatly furnished. On the walls 
were a number of pictures which Reaves recognized were 
Theresa’s favorite paintings. There were some other small 
paintings which he recognized as the work of her own hands. 
He was busily engaged in looking at one of them when he 
heard a door open behind him. 

“Do you wish to speak to me ?” asked Theresa, in an even 
voice as he turned around. He bowed and took a step in her 
direction, while she stood still staring at him. His disguise 
was so perfect that she did not recognize him. 

“Theresa,” he spoke softly, and with the sound of his 
voice came recognition. 

She suddenly turned very pale as she exclaimed, “Oh!— 
you here—how on earth did you get here? You must leave 
at once,” she told him as soon as she had sufficiently re¬ 
covered to find her voice. “You are in great danger here, 
you must not remain.” 

“I am thoroughly aware of the risk I take in coming here,” 
he replied, “but one has to take many desperate chances and 
brave great dangers while serving his country in times like 
these. And, too, Theresa, I have thought of you so often 
since the day you sent Miss Beeman to me, with a warning 
that I must leave the city at once, or I would be arrested on 
some trumped-up charge, and kept in prison for the period 
of the war.” 

She had now completely recovered from the shock of the 


i6o BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


sudden and unexpected appearance of Reaves in Berlin, but 
during his absence she had been under the constant influence 
of German patriots headed by Captain Heine, and her sym¬ 
pathies though not entirely for Germany, had undergone 
considerable change. She turned to him with a flash of 
anger. 

“So you have come to me seeking information and protec¬ 
tion,” she said. “Well, I am afraid you will get no infor¬ 
mation and very little protection,” taking a step into the 
room she continued stiffly, “allow me to suggest again that 
you leave Germany at once and stay away. Captain Heine 
has told me that he is determined to get you if you ever 
showed up in Germany again.” 

He knew that she was a creature of emotions and that 
sentiment played a great part in her life. 

“It is in your power,” he said, “to turn me over to the 
authorities and have me shot tomorrow at sunrise.” 

He took a step in her direction as he continued, “But 
while we never could agree in matters of love, I do not 
believe you are at heart the kind of person to do a heartless, 
cruel thing. I did not come here tonight seeking information 
concerning secrets of the German war office, nor to ask your 
protection. I came to see you and to talk to you about your¬ 
self.” 

Theresa dropped her eyes and gazed steadily at the floor. 
She realized as never before that he was not a man to shelter 
himself behind a woman, but she could not figure in her 
mind just where she came in in his plans. There was a long 
silence, broken by Theresa, who suddenly faced him with a 
determination to find out just why he came to see her. 

“What is it you want to talk to me about?” she asked. 

He was gazing seemingly in total abstraction at a picture 
on the wall; one of her own paintings. 

“I beg your pardon,” he said, turning to face her, “but 
for a moment my thoughts had drifted back to a mansion in 
the country back in America and a little flower house in the 
yard. What a change can take place in a few years’ time.” 
Looking away he said, “Cruel fate has certainly dealt the 
cards against me in the great game of love, and destiny only 
awaits an opportunity to mark the end with a tragedy.” 

The sight of Theresa, whom he had not seen since the 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 161 


memorable day almost three years before, when she had told 
him to leave her and that she would send for him if she 
ever wanted him again, brought back for the moment all of 
their past. He saw it all with horrible clearness and almost 
wished he had not come to see her. 

“Oh, Fred, I thought you had forgotten,” she faltered, 
“and that you hated me.” 

He looked at one of her paintings on the wall; it was the 
little flower garden where he had first made love to her. He 
shook his head slowly as he said, “Forgetfulness with me is 
not possible. There are too many living reminders of the 
blissful happiness that marked the beginning of our romance. 
There is a spark of hope, a bright light, and that shows up at 
times with dreadful vividness, out of the cloud which has 
overshadowed my life since the day you told me you could 
not marry me.” 

She was silent and her eyes looked beyond him, while her 
memories went back to the distant past. What did he mean 
by a spark of hope, a bright light; then it all came to her. “I 
shall forever hope,” he had said, when he had left her after 
a lover’s quarrel. 

“Theresa,” he called her name after a long silence. She 
turned her tear-stained eyes to his. “This is no time to dis¬ 
cuss the tragedy of our shattered romance and I do not wish 
to discuss anything that would make you unhappy. For the 
present do not think of me as an enemy. Tonight I am in 
an enemy’s country, and here I expect to stay until I get 
certain information I came for. I do not know that I shall 
go back to America until this war is over, and, of course, I 
may never get back. I am simply a wanderer in war-ridden 
Europe. I do not even know my movements from day to 
day. There will be no place that I can call home until it is 
all over, but you have a home in America and Germany is no 
place for you at the present time.” 

She turned suddenly and looked at him, her expression 
w&s one of doubt. “I am not sure that I am in sympathy 
with England and her allies in this war. You must have 
forgotten,” she said, after a moment’s hesitation, “that my 
father is a son of the Fatherland.” 

“No,” he replied, looking at her sternly, “I have not for- 


162 behind the scenes of destiny 


gotten, and I was afraid that you, like your father, would 
sympathize with our enemies/’ 

“I have a right to my views on the subject and I hate the 
English anyway,” she retorted angrily. “Allow me to again 
insist that you leave here immediately and never put your 
foot on German soil again.” 

He studied her face for a minute while she met his cold 
stare with perfect calm. 

“Am I to understand that unless I promise to leave Berlin 
at once, you will report me to Captain Heine?” he asked. 

“You have had my warning and now go,” she replied, 
pointing to the door. 

“Then you would have me believe you love Captain 
Heine?” 

“If I do, it is none of your affair,” she flashed back at 
him, “but go quickly,” she repeated in a pleading tone of 
voice, and after a short pause in which anguish showed 
plainly on her face she added, “I am looking for him tonight 
and he may be here any minute.” 

He bowed to her and without speaking quickly made his 
departure. 


XVIII 


Reaves returned to Gus Lenaire’s house where he would be 
safe and have an opportunity to think things over. He had 
two objects in view in calling at the studio. He suspected 
that her German blood and the influence of German environ¬ 
ment would result in her sentiments being strongly pro- 
German, and he wanted to see for himself just what attitude 
she would take towards him, when she found that he had 
returned to Berlin. He did not relish the idea of a personal 
interview, but he felt that he would probably have to remain 
in the city for some time if he succeeded in accomplishing 
his mission; and she would most surely get an inkling of the 
fact and he wanted to form some idea as to what she would 
do after knowing he had returned. He did not doubt that 
he could evade attempts to run him to earth by the secret 
service, but having to dodge from place to place hampered 
his work and touched his pride. 

The talk with Theresa had been different from what he 
expected. He had expected to let her do the talking, but 
when she saw him she took the same attitude and he was 
compelled to some extent to let the conversation drift into 
whatever channels it might take. The net result of his visit 
was that she was decidely for Germany and that she would 
not report his presence in the city for the present at least; 
but her German blood might eventually lead her to report 
him to Captain Heine and defeat his mission. 

The calm balancing of circumstances and chances is the 
exercise of a superior order of mind. The more Reaves 
thought of his situation the more restless he became. Dan¬ 
gers and risk of the gravest character sink into insignificance 
when compared with a situation like this, he thought. If it 
ever came to a showdown between Captain Heine and Ger¬ 
many on one side and himself and America on the other, 
what would Theresa do? He was forced to admit that the 
weight of probability was against him. He walked the 
floor with his hands crossed behind him in an attitude of 

163 


164 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


doubt. He must trust her or he must watch his step. It was 
not a matter that took courage to decide but wisdom to work 
out. He could leave Berlin at once and let Theresa take 
whatever steps she wished. But his mission—he must not 
fail. His friends in England and France would form the 
wrong opinion of American diplomats, and he could not give 
the excuse that the risk of being apprehended was such that 
it was impossible to remain longer. He knew before he 
undertook the mission that the risks were such as to make the 
accomplishment of the undertaking next to impossible. He 
had also been aware of Theresa’s doubtful loyalty, but he 
thought by reason of the warning she had given him just 
before he left with Lord Cullen, that she could be trusted. 
He thought over the matter until late into the night without 
coming to any decision as to what were the best tactics to 
pursue. 

The next morning he arose early and called Gus to prepare 
his breakfast. He was unusually gay when the old man 
brought in his tray and placed it before him. 

“Gus, your meals are excellent. Did your wife teach you 
to cook?” 

“I was a caterer in a fashionable restaurant for a number 
of years, sir; and Madam, the proprietress, taught me how to 
cook many dainty dishes, sir.” The old man stopped and was 
looking out the window. 

“What are you thinking about, Gus ?” asked Reaves, seeing 
the old man in a deep study. 

“I was thinking how the world changes, sir. In the old 
days of 70-71, I fought the Germans; they conquered my 
country and took Alsace-Lorraine and made me an unwilling 
citizen of this country. I met the Fraulein and we were 
married.” 

Reaves had gotten Gus’s life history before he ever knew 
Gus, and he had never discussed with him his private life; 
but this morning Gus looked forsaken and wanted to talk, so 
he decided to lead him on. 

“Were you happily married to your German wife, Gus?” 

“She was a good woman, sir,” he replied as he turned 
around facing Reaves. “Most of these German women make 
good wives, sir. They are industrious and they try to help 
their husbands along, but they are all for the Fatherland. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 165 


I am glad, sir, that she passed on before this war. It would 
have been unpleasant, very unpleasant, sir. They sacrifice 
home ties and everything for the Fatherland.” 

“You don’t think one would sacrifice her husband, do 
you ?” 

“It has already happened, sir. While you were away a 
woman here in the city who was married to an Englishman 
had him shot on mere suspicion.” 

Reaves stopped eating and stared straight in front of him; 
his eyes were narrowed and his face was very serious. Gus 
took a few steps towards the table at which he was sitting. 

“I hope, sir,” he said slowly, “that you will not trust any 
of these women who have a drop of German blood in their 
veins, because I know, sir.” 

“I guess you are right, Gus,” said Reaves picking up his 
knife and fork and resuming his meal, “but what about your 
son ? Do you think he is to be trusted ?” 

Gus looked away before replying. “I have been thinking 
about him considerable, sir. He is my son and his mother 
died while he was just a mere boy, sir, and I have talked to 
him about the freedom of the French people; the beautiful 
country and how happy her people are. He doesn’t like this 
government nor the German people. He doesn’t like the 
army. I will go to see him often, sir, and if he changes I 
will let you know. There is only one thing that worries me, 
sir; German blood most always shows up sooner or later.” 

“Does he know that I am in the city, Gus ?” 

“I haven’t told him yet, sir.” 

“Then don’t tell him until I have left the city again; and 
in the meantime get all the information you can from him 
and his associates.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Reaves soon finished eating and pushed his chair back, and 
taking out his pipe he started to fill it with tobacco, which 
meant to Gus that the conversation was ended. The old man 
placed the dishes on the tray and picked it up and started to 
leave the room. There was a knock on the door. Gus 
stopped and stood still while Reaves took the pipe from his 
mouth and they both listened. It was repeated and they 
understood. It was Miss Beeman. Gus opened the door and 
let her in, while Reaves arose from his seat and placed a 


166 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


chair for her, which she ignored but stood looking at him 
with a queer kind of smile. 

“You are looking happy this morning,” Reaves remarked. 
“You must have good news.” 

“My friend at the war office took me out to dinner last 
night,” she said, “and I had a very pleasant evening.” 

“He must make love wonderfully,” commented Reaves, as 
he smiled back at her, “and you can make yourself irresis¬ 
tible when you choose so to do.” 

“Forget it,” she said, and after a short pause, “you would 
smile and say nice things to a woman if you were blindfolded 
and standing against a wall.” 

“What is on your mind this morning, Miss Beeman?” 
asked Reaves resuming his business-like attitude. 

“I have something on my mind, all right,” and starting to 
open her little handbag, “also something in this which might 
interest you.” She opened the handbag and took therefrom 
a long envelope which had been folded up tightly. Reaves 
watched her with deep interest, knowing this resourceful girl 
had gotten hold of some valuable information. She handed 
him the envelope which he tore open eagerly and quickly 
read what it contained, while she stood back and watched his 
countenance which changed from intense interest at first, to 
amazement, then delight. 

She was a deep student of human nature and when he 
finished and looked up at her, she said, “I think myself, that 
I did a pretty good evening’s work.” 

“Let me congratulate you on your wonderful work,” he 
said, coming forward and taking his faithful co-worker by 
the hand. 

She accepted his congratulations with a gentle bow and 
took a step away from him, then stood gazing at him for a 
moment with fixed eyes. 

“You asked me what was on my mind,” she said, “and I am 
going to tell you. Those war plans should be in the hands 
of France and England at the earliest possible moment.” 
She turned her head a little to one side and looked at him 
out of drawn eyes, as she continued, “Germany is a little 
warm for you at this time, notwithstanding the mercury is 
hanging around zero, and it would please me very much if 
you would depart for Paris with those plans immediately.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 167 


He looked at her for some time before speaking. This 
was the second time she had voiced her opinion concerning 
the danger he was running by remaining in Berlin, and Gus 
had plainly hinted at the same thing. He did not doubt that 
they knew the dangers to him much better than he, because 
he had not been in the city for months. 

“Why, Miss Beeman,” he asked with a frown upon his 
face, “are you so anxious for me to leave Berlin ?” 

She hesitated and then looked away as she replied, 
“Because you are not the same as before you knew about her, 
and you know I don’t trust anyone with German blood in her 
makeup.” 

“I presume you refer to Miss Theresa Busch, do you not?” 

“I certainly do,” was the quick reply. 

“I do not wholly trust Theresa myself,” he told her. “She 
is somewhat of an unknown quantity; lacking in stability, 
and at any moment she may betray my presence here, but I 
have voluntarily undertaken the serious and dangerous work 
of getting this secret information for the countries who are 
fighting Germany and I must not fail. Thousands of men 
go over the top every day in the face of the enemy’s deadly 
fire, and why should I hesitate to face dangerous circum¬ 
stances when it is in line of duty?” x 

“You cannot see the dangers as I see them,” she warned, 
as she started towards the door, “but I see there is no use 
talking to you, I can only wish you luck.” 

“Miss Beeman,” he called with a frown upon his brow and 
a little flash of anger showing plainly in his face as she 
started to open the door. “I need Theresa’s help for the 
present and she is going to help me to get the information 
which I came here to get, before I leave the city.” 


XIX 


When Frederick Reaves left Theresa's studio he felt cer¬ 
tain that she had really meant to warn him when she said 
that she was looking for Captain Heine any minute. He 
decided for various reasons that he wanted to verify what 
Theresa had told him and get a good look at the captain; so 
he strolled along the streets in the immediate vicinity until 
he saw him, accompanied by a stalwart soldier, who walked at 
his left and a little behind him. Feeling that his disguise was 
perfect, he did not fear recognition, so he made it a point to 
cross the street so they would meet just at the corner. He 
looked up just for a second as they passed, but that was 
sufficient for him to get a perfect mental picture of just how 
the man was dressed and his general appearance. He had 
successfully impersonated this sworn enemy once and it 
might be necessary for him to attempt it again. 

When Captain Heine rang the doorbell at Theresa's 
apartment she was sitting on the little stool before the easel. 
Reaves’ unexpected visit had completely upset her and she 
was pondering in her mind whether to tell Captain Heine the 
whole story or leave him in ignorance of the fact that the 
man in her past life was none other than the man whom he 
had staked his reputation on catching. Conflicting emotions 
surged up in her mind. At that moment she hated Frederick 
Reaves. America was the place she had had all her trouble. 
She was of German blood, Captain Heine was prominent 
socially and held an important position at the war office. 
Why not turn Reaves over to him to be shot as a spy, then 
marry Captain Heine and make her home in Germany? 
Suddenly her trend of thought stopped and with a sob she 
exclaimed, “Oh, I cannot, I cannot.” 

Captain Heine was announced. She told the maid to ask 
him to come into the studio. She dried her eyes quickly and 
powdered her face, and when he entered she was leaning 
towards the unfinished painting, her brush in her right hand 
touching it and holding the little palette with its assortment of 

168 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 169 


colors in her left. The studio was dimly lighted, except for 
the light immediately above the painting. 

“Ah,” he exclaimed, “I have caught you at work tonight. 
I did not know that great artists attempted to paint by elec¬ 
tric light.” 

“They don’t usually,” she said looking up, “but the contrast 
is often a great help when it comes to painting the little 
details.” He leaned over and kissed the back of her ex¬ 
tended hand, then looking around the room, he said: 

“I envy you here in your cozy apartment. I sometimes 
wonder if you ever get lonely.” 

She looked away but did not reply. 

“Think of me,” he continued, becoming serious and looking 
at her intently. “My elegant apartment is closed up except 
for the short time that I go there at night for a few hours’ 
rest.” He took both her hands in his and looked down into 
her pale face. “When Theresa, are you going to marry me ?” 

She could not meet his steady gaze. He drew her to him 
and kissed her forehead. There were many traits in his 
character that she admired, but a shudder ran through her 
every time he would touch her, and Theresa knew that no 
woman can be happily married to a man whom she does not 
want to have touch her. There is no love where such 
antagonistic feeling exists and in such cases respect and 
admiration are not sufficient to bring about either content¬ 
ment or happiness. 

After desperate efforts at composure, Theresa summed up 
courage to reply, “I cannot marry you now,” she began. “You 
already know something of my life history. I once loved a 
man in America and I—I am not sure now—that I hate 
him.” There was a deep silence between them. She knew 
now that she never could betray Reaves to this man, and a 
feeling of fear gripped her as she thought he possibly already 
knew Reaves was in the city or of her old acquaintance with 
him. She was doubly glad at that moment that she had not 
mentioned Reaves’ name to this man before. Some day he 
would find out that Frederick Reaves and the man he called 
the mysterious American were one and the same person, but 
she hoped it would not be until he had left the city. 

The long silence frightened her; she suddenly looked up at 
him. The mask had dropped from his face and it had become 


170 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

a shade paler; his eyes had narrowed; his mouth showed 
signs of hardness. She did not know what was coming, but 
she saw something cruel in his expression. He must know 
something about her secret that he had never mentioned to 
her. 

Did he already know that he had visited her? She was 
almost terrified. It seemed that he would never speak or 
come out of that terrible mood. 

“What is the matter?” she finally summoned courage to 
ask him. 

A faint smile crept slowly over his face and he looked 
away as he replied with a sneer: 

“I was thinking of the time when I was trying to catch 
this American who helped that Englishman to escape from 
the internment camp. It has always been a mystery to me 
why you took his part so strongly. I am not going to insist 
upon an explanation at the present time, but some day you 
will regret that you did not explain the whole circumstances 
to me at that time.” 

She tried to appear offended, but her anxiety was intense 
and it was with great effort that she kept from giving herself 
away. 

“You forget, Captain Heine, that I am an American citi¬ 
zen and it would be disloyal not to be in sympathy with an 
American; and furthermore you had intimated that he would 
be arrested on some trumped-up charge, and the thing that 
angered me then was your attitude of unfairness.” She 
looked at him trying to appear disappointed. “I had formed 
such a high opinion of you,” she continued, “that I thought 
you were above taking such steps against any man.” 

For a moment he was silent, then turning to her he said, 
“If I could only tell you all that I know about the man and 
the trouble he has given the war office you would better 
understand my position.” 

“What do you know about him?” she quickly asked. 

“It can be summed up in a very few words. He is one 
of the greatest enemies that I have to deal with. If I don’t 
run him to earth I am liable to lose my commission and be 
turned out of the army in disgrace.” 

“What has he done?” she persisted, with a further show 
of anger. “You have told me nothing.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 171 


He looked at her again with eyelids contracted to narrow 
slits. “I will tell you one thing he has done recently.” She 
hardly breathed while she waited for him to speak. “He 
spied on a conference between Germany and some friendly 
nations and sent a report to our enemies. Those nations 
were to be our allies in arms—but now they are our enemies.” 
He clenched his fist while she held her breath for what was 
coming. “He is in the city now, but he shall not escape me 
this time; every avenue is closed.” 

“How do you know he is in the city?” she asked, deter¬ 
mined to find out all she could. 

“That,” he replied coolly, “is the business of the war 
office.” 

“You ought to be quite sure he is guilty of all the things 
you accuse him of before you arrest him. You speak as 
though he is the only person getting secret information for 
the enemies of the Fatherland.” 

“He is certainly the one giving us the most trouble at the 
present time,” he retorted. 

“Of course,” she continued, “I know nothing about such 
matters, but it does seem that you, with the great organiza¬ 
tion you have, would have but little trouble in catching all 
the spies in the city.” 

“My dear Theresa, you spoke truly, when you said you 
know nothing of these matters. There are spies in every 
camp, in the war office and even in the secret service. 
Money or a shrewd woman can get information from a lot 
of sources.” And looking at her intently he added, “I have 
been questioned repeatedly about you.” 

She laughed outright and after a moment she asked, 
“What did you reply to your questioner ?” 

“I replied,” he said, “that I was watching you myself.” 

“Well, have you seen anything to make you suspicious of 
me ?” 

“Not yet, but you are a bit hard to understand sometimes, 
and as a matter of formality I am going to ask you to give 
me a list of your callers weekly; so that I can turn in some 
sort of a report about you.” 

“Just as you like,” she said, with an angry air, “but it 
would probably be better for me to return to America.” 

She walked over to the writing desk and picked up a gold 


172 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


cigarette case, selected one and after lighting it calmly took 
a seat and started smoking. She tried to appear very much 
hurt because he had insinuated that he did not trust her, yet 
she was afraid. While he had told her nothing definite, yet 
she felt he was keeping something from her and that some¬ 
thing might prove her undoing or worse. Still he might 
know all about her acquaintance with Frederick Reaves, the 
man whom he hated above all others, and if he did, he could 
arrest her as a dangerous alien or hold the threat over her, 
so that he would to a great extent have her in his power. 
She was almost panic stricken at the thought, but by strong 
efforts of will she managed to maintain her attitude of hav¬ 
ing taken offense at what he had said. He came and stood in 
front of her. She met his cold stare unflinchingly. 

“I am only a part of a great human machine,” he said, 
“and I have to do my whole duty. I don’t want to leave you 
angry, won’t you forgive me?” 

“Please leave me now,” she said coldly. He bowed with 
profound respect and as he opened the door he said, “I shall 
’phone you tomorrow.” 

For some moments Theresa sat perfectly still, gazing at 
the door through which he had made his departure. 


XX 


Reaves’ situation was getting desperate. He had learned 
from various sources that it was generally thought that he 
was in the city. He knew that every effort would be made 
to locate him and if caught, well—he would not think of what 
would surely happen to him. He could not be seen at Gus’s 
home. They might suspect him or set a trap and catch Miss 
Beeman, Gus and himself all at one time. There were other 
spies whom he knew in the city, but he preferred to work 
alone as much as possible. Of course, if he was pushed too 
close, there was Clicot, king of the underworld, whom he 
had had released from prison in France, in order that he 
might get information from the treacherous criminal element. 
Clicot had told him with an air of great confidence, that he 
knew of a place where he could find refuge in the city and 
the whole army couldn’t find him, but the idea of being 
hidden away somewhere in the dark underworld of crime 
was abhorrent to him, so he determined to act at once. He 
selected a suitable disguise and after making himself up 
carefully, he set forth again in the middle of the afternoon 
to have another interview with Theresa. 

How strange it was, he thought, to be renewing his friend¬ 
ship with Theresa under such circumstances; until his pre¬ 
vious visit there had been no direct communication between 
them since their engagement had been broken off nearly three 
years before. “We were once the best of friends, then 
apparently the worst of enemies, but what are we to each 
other now?” he asked himself. “Patriotism causes me to 
forget even my pride; or is it patriotism? It may be that I 
only need her help, or do I fear her, and want to do some¬ 
thing to keep her from reporting my presence in the city?” 

So his thoughts were moving as he stopped before the 
studio door and rang the bell. The door was again opened 
by the same maid who had let him in on his previous visit. 
He gave a fictitious name as he had done before. 

While waiting for Theresa to appear he went over to the 
173 


174 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


window which opened on the park. He could see through the 
park to the Linden-Strasse beyond. The strains of marshal 
music greeted his ear and again the never-ending line of 
soldiers could be seen still marching with a proud step 
through the street; and it seemed the people never tired of 
cheering a new division or regiment on its way to the front. 
“Can the rest of the world ever train and equip enough 
soldiers to beat such an army as Germany is putting into the 
field? he asked silently of himself. He heard the door 
open behind him and turned to again face Theresa who stood 
in the doorway. 

She did not appear surprised but stood still, her eyes 
resting calmly on him. 

He started towards her as he pronounced her name softly. 
She held up her hand but did not speak. He stopped still; 
it was a signal for him to be silent. Without speaking—she 
turned and disappeared through the door and closed it behind 
her. 

He heard her speaking to the maid. A door shut in the 
back of the apartment and almost immediately the door 
through which she had disappeared opened again, and she 
entered the room and closed it behind her. 

“It seems that everybody is a spy these days,” she said, 
“and I went back to see that the maid was out of hearing 
distance.” 

“Then you do not intend to turn me over to your friend, 
Captain Heine, for the present, at least,” he said, with a 
faint smile. 

“What is it you want of me now?” she asked in a strained 
tone of voice. 

He took a few steps in her direction and stopped, then 
looking at her with gentle but compelling eyes. “Theresa,” 
he said in a firm voice, “forget for the time being our happy 
romance of the past, and think of our present situation. I 
must know certain things before I leave you. I must either 
trust you or consider you an enemy.” He faltered and 
turned his head away as he continued, “I do not want to—I 
—cannot think of you doing anything against me or—against 
our country. If you will only answer me one question.” 

“Well, what is it?” she asked, irritably. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 175 


He looked at her again with deep concern. “Are you in 
love with this Captain Heine ?” 

“That should not concern you,” she answered. 

“But it does; at least from a business standpoint. If you 
are in love with him you are pro-German. America is going 
to enter this war soon, and I must know whether you are 
loyal to America, or if your German blood and your environ¬ 
ment here have made you a German sympathizer.” 

His remarks were a direct challenge and she was puzzled, 
but after some hesitation she said, “I refuse to answer your 
question,” then after a long pause she said in a pleading tone 
of voice, “Please, Fred, leave Berlin before it is too late.” 

“That is out of the question. I cannot until I accomplish 
what I came here to do. You are in a position to help me get 
the information I must have, and when I get it I will go 
back across the border. I am asking nothing for myself but 
everything for America and the countries who are her allies.” 

“What is it that you want me to do for you?” she asked. 

“I do not want you to do anything for me,” he repeated. 
“It is for the countries that are fighting Germany.” 

He hesitated a moment and while he was looking at her 
silently tears came into her eyes. 

“You can trust me,” she said. “I cannot betray you, I 
have tried but I cannot.” 

“You must not put it that way, Theresa, either you do 
this for the enemies of Germany and not for me, or I leave 
you now and make a desperate effort to accomplish the task 
without assistance.” 

“I will do anything you ask if it is in my power.” 

“Well,” he said, “Captain Heine keeps valuable papers in 
a safe in his apartment. There is one which I must have a 
copy of before I leave Germany.” 

“How on earth can I help you to get it?” she asked in 
astonishment at his unusual request. “I will not take part 
in any violence directed against Captain Heine or anyone 
else,” she told him, “and besides I might be caught.” 

“There must be no violence,” he said, looking at her seri¬ 
ously, “but there is a remote possibility of one being caught; 
but if you will follow my instructions I don’t think we 
will.” 

Theresa was puzzled; she did not know what to make of 


176 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

Reaves* willingness to expose her to such dangers; and he 
was not yet certain that he could depend on her loyalty, and 
purposely kept back the details of the plot until he found out 
how she would act on the suggestion. 

“Then you are going to help me get this paper you speak 
of ?” she said, after a long pause. 

“Yes; in every possible way, but there are certain things 
you will have to do in your own way.” 

For a moment she thought of the possibility of his laying 
a trap to get her out of the way, then her mind quickly re¬ 
verted to the past; from what she knew of him, he was not 
that kind. She had never known him to do a dishonorable 
thing in his life. It was his feeling of patriotism, but why 
so patriotic for England and her allies ? America would soon 
enter the war, he had told her, and after all it was really for 
America that he was working; in that moment a great ad¬ 
miration sprang up in her heart for the man who was taking 
such chances with his life by trying to get the secrets of the 
German war office. She looked up at him, a faint smile was 
on his handsome face. 

“Fred,” she said, looking at him very seriously, “you are 
playing with Fate.” 

His face became grave as he replied, “I fully realize, 
Theresa, that I am flirting with death, but it will simply be 
the irony of Fate if I am caught this time. This is war 
though, and if I fail, I am simply a soldier who tried but 
failed to accomplish the task assigned him.” 

“But why are you now so reckless with your life? When 
I first knew you, you would not have cared to engage in this 
hazardous undertaking.” 

He looked at her for a moment then turned away—there 
was sadness plainly showing in every line of his care-worn 
face. It was plain that Theresa referred to the days of their 
courtship, but he had told her he was not there to discuss 
their past; and notwithstanding the fact that at times he felt 
like taking her in his arms again and telling her that he still 
loved her, he did not intend to let sentiment get the better 
of his judgment and thereby cause him to lose sight of the 
great task before him. After a long silence he again looked 
into her troubled face and answered her gravely. “Life, 
Theresa, is ever changing. Most people go in the direction 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 177 


to which their emotions or desires direct them at the time, 
when a little patience and a little thinking would enable them 
to see their error and help them to keep away from the brink 
of the abyss.” He dropped his head and appeared to be gaz¬ 
ing at the floor as he continued: “You are right, Theresa, 
there was a time when it would have been hard to have gotten 
me to undertake this dangerous business, even in time of war, 
but then I had hopes and was happy, I thought I had every¬ 
thing to live for, but now”—he hesitated—“I only have a 
country to die for.” 

“Oh, Fred, you must not say that, some day you will be 
happy again. I feel it; I am sure of it.” 

He looked away as he replied, “I have lost my only chance 
of happiness, but I have a duty to perform for my country 
and for the present I shall be content to be only a very small 
part of a great system; a machine built up of millions of 
men for the purpose of saving civilization and making people 
free.” 

When he stopped speaking he looked again at Theresa. 
She had been watching him intently. She took a step closer 
to him and took hold of the lapel of his coat. “It is danger¬ 
ous for you to remain here longer,” she said, “and if you 
won’t leave the city without those papers tell me what it is 
that I can do to help you get them.” 

He looked at her intently as he replied, “I shall not make 
any excuses for asking you to do this, because you are doing 
it for America and the countries who are fighting Germany 
at the present time.” 

Her eyes narrowed and she put in curtly, “Please forget 
for whom I am doing it and go ahead.” 

He looked at her sharply as he continued, “I want you to 
get the key to his apartment and I will do the rest.” 

For a moment Theresa was angry and her eyes flashed fire. 
Suspicion, doubt and fear crowded into her mind, yet she 
knew Frederick Reaves as no one else could know him and 
while he had done something to wound her feelings deeply, 
yet he was not treacherous. It is just his cold-blooded and 
determined way of accomplishing what he had undertaken, 
she decided. He watched her face silently while this mental 
storm raged within her mind and finally the shadows passed 
and the frown gave way to a pleasant smile, as she looked at 


178 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


him and said, “If I am to help you I shall do it in my own 
way.” She hesitated for a moment, lost in deep thought. 
Suddenly she looked up at him and with child-like enthu¬ 
siasm took hold of his coat sleeve with both her hands as 
she exclaimed, “I have it. I will have him call late tomorrow 
evening and suggest we take a walk, and we will go to his 
apartment; let me see, about ten o’clock. You appear at the 
door at a quarter of eleven. Leave the details to me and if 
all goes well you can leave Berlin tomorrow night.” She was 
looking at him and when she had finished she noticed a 
shadow pass over his face and the thought came into her 
mind that he would probably find some excuse to remain in 
the city after the papers were secured. After a long silence 
she said in an appealing tone of voice, “You will go, won’t 
you ?” 

“Yes, if I get a copy of those papers,” he replied solemnly. 

He described to her briefly the nature of the papers and 
the envelope in which they would probably be sealed. She 
nodded her head. He took her by the hand, pressed it to his 
lips and hurriedly left the studio. 


XXI 


As Reaves prolonged his stay in the city the difficulties of 
escape increased. Slowly but surely the net was being drawn 
about him. Miss Beeman, Gus and Theresa, had all warned 
him on his arrival in the city, and only the day before he 
had been told that the authorities not only knew he was in 
the city but were at that time tracing down every clue and 
combing the city for him. Theresa had told him that Captain 
Heine had said every avenue of escape was closed. He 
turned the situation over in his mind as he walked back to his 
place of safety after his second interview with Theresa; but 
he must have those papers or be caught in attempting to get 
them, and if he should be apprehended—well—he knew the 
fate that awaited all spies caught in Germany. He did not 
like Theresa’s having insisted on helping him in her own 
way. He had been in the habit of telling others how he 
wanted things done or doing them himself according to his 
own well-laid plans. While he had to trust her in this in¬ 
stance, the thought of her lack of experience in such matters 
and her sudden fits of temper made him feel a little uneasy. 
Somehow he wished she was out of this, she was still just a 
grown-up child to him. If he only had Miss Beeman to help 
him in this critical situation, he would feel much easier about 
it; but war means to do your duty in spite of circumstances, 
obstacles or consequences. The more he thought about it, the 
more serious and difficult the undertaking seemed to be. 

“Fate must be laughing at me,” he thought to himself, “at 
what a fool I am for trying to put something like this over 
on Captain Heine.” With a spirit born of determination he 
smiled. “I will defy Fate just this once more,” he said half- 
aloud. 

As he approached his usual place of refuge he glanced 
about him in every direction and seeing no one following him 
or loitering about the place he entered the house and went 
into the room which he used while staying there. After fill¬ 
ing his pipe with tobacco he stretched out on the old couch. 


180 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


On the way from the studio he had felt a little nervous and 
agitated, which is the usual state when contemplating danger¬ 
ous undertakings, but now he had resolved to take the risk, 
and as his plans matured in his mind he became calm. For 
some unknown reason he suddenly felt that Theresa would 
carry through successfully her part of the undertaking; and 
to him, escape from the city and getting across the frontier 
became his great problem. He thought over the various 
methods all of which were full of danger. He called Gus to 
him and gave him his instructions. Miss Beeman called and 
gave him various reports on matters of importance. He 
motioned her to a seat where she remained silent while he 
read the reports. When he had finished he looked at her 
and nodded his head. She arose from her seat and went 
over and placed her hand on the opposite side of the little 
table at which he was sitting, and looking at him out of the 
corner of her eyes, said smilingly: 

“And now you have that information I suppose you are 
ready to make a hurried departure.” 

He looked up at her quickly, “There is only one other bit 
of information which I must have before I can leave, and I 
expect to get that tomorrow night,” he replied rather ab¬ 
stractedly. 

She dropped her eyes and looked away hopelessly. The 
smile had faded from her face and her features became 
clouded. 

Reaves started to speak and hesitated. It was unusual for 
her to behave like that and he wanted to find out what it was 
before telling her any of his plans. 

“What is it you are thinking of Miss Beeman?” he asked, 
leaning over the table in her direction. 

She turned slowly and faced him as she replied: 

“You were seen on the street yesterday and recognized by 
Captain Heine’s assistant,” she said, “and they would have 
arrested you then, but he was taking an urgent message 
from the captain to the war office and when he returned 
with help you had escaped.” 

Reaves sat motionless for a full minute before he spoke. 
Finally he said, “Yes, he passed me on a motorcycle as I 
entered the park, but I did not think he recognized me.” 

“Please, Mr. Reaves, leave the city tonight, before it is 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 181 


too late. We have worked together for a long time and I 
cannot bear to see you caught and shot as a spy.” She looked 
up at him, genuine distress was stamped on her every fea¬ 
ture. “Is it possible,” thought Reaves, as he looked at her 
dejected figure, “that all women are sentimental?” 

“Your alarm about my safety is justified, Miss Beeman, 
but I must have that bit of information.” 

“The information you have,” she argued, “is most valuable 
to the Allies and you should get it into the proper hands at 
the earliest possible moment.” 

“Take a seat, Miss Beeman,” he said, calmly. “I think we 
are safe here for at least a short while, and I want to talk 
to you.” 

She took a seat and faced him calmly. “The information 
I have gathered since my return to Berlin is as you say of 
very great importance to the nations at war with Germany. 
The great bulk of it has been collected by you and those who 
work under your direction. Do not think that I underestimate 
its importance or fail to appreciate the dangers of my present 
situation. Your timely warning is greatly appreciated and 
if it had been only a personal matter I should have left long 
ago, but”—he looked down at the report she had given him 
as he continued—“unto me has been committed an important 
mission and I must not fail. I could never face my friends 
again. In another day and night I hope the issue will be 
decided.” 

“Do you really mean that you will get the other plans 
tomorrow night?” 

“I shall make an effort,” he replied bravely, “and if I suc¬ 
ceed I will be ready to leave the country.” 

“Let me in on this,” she said, with a distinct revival of 
enthusiasm. “There must be something I can do to help.” 

He smiled and shook his head. “You are going to stay in 
this country, and you must not take unnecessary risks. I 
shall try to get away sometime tomorrow night, but if I fail 
you will be needed here more than ever.” 

She was disappointed and while she was glad he would 
soon be on his way out of the country and to safety, she felt 
that he should let her do at least a little something to help 
in this last undertaking. He arose from his seat and ex- 


182 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


tended his hand across the little table. She knew it meant 
that the interview was at an end. 

She ignored his extended hand and asked, “Where is the 
little show going to be staged tomorrow night ?” 

He saw that she was determined, and being willing to trust 
her discretion he said, “At Captain Heine’s apartment at a 
quarter to eleven.” 

She immediately arose and took his extended hand, at the 
same time looking at him tenderly. He held it in both of his 
and said, “Good-bye, Miss B'eeman.” 

She turned her face from him without speaking. There 
was a long silence between them, then she slowly withdrew 
her hand and left the room without looking at him again. 

After Miss Beeman’s departure he fell to thinking again 
about his plans for the following night, and what would 
they think of Theresa, if he should be caught in or near 
Captain Heine’s apartment with the papers in his possession. 
She would most certainly be arrested, too, and on the very 
serious charge of giving secret information to the enemy. 
The thought annoyed him and he was not a little vexed with 
her for not telling him her plan of action, so that he might 
be prepared to act the part he had to play and use other 
means in case she failed; but she had said she would help him 
in her own way. She had never been entrusted with any 
task of that nature when he knew her before, but then she 
was only a very young girl, and now she was a woman of 
experience in the ways of the world, and probably she was 
equal to the task and would have some well-laid plan to work 
upon. 

As he thought of how she looked and acted during their 
interview, he knew that she had changed from the irrespon¬ 
sible butterfly, living for pleasure without a serious thought, 
to a mature woman. Probably being away from home had 
made it necessary for her to think and she had discovered 
that life is a serious battle, dealing with many difficult prob¬ 
lems, but rich in rewards to those who watch, work and await 
with patience that greatest of all happiness the just rewards 
of a clear conscience, which is the natural sequence of duty 
well performed. 

“She is not going to fail me,” he finally said to himself. 
At this point in his musings he heard the door open and he 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 183 


knew that Gus was returning from the errands on which 
he had sent him, so he dismissed Theresa from his mind and 
when Gus came in, he listened patiently to his account of 
what he had done. The old man finished and stood there 
waiting, looking very gloomy, thinking that what he had 
told Reaves was bad news. 

“Looks like my chances of getting out of the city are 
pretty slim, doesn’t it, Gus?” 

“Every street is watched, sir, and I think you had better 
stay right here in this old house of mine until things quiet 
down a bit.” 

“I shall stay here until tomorrow night, Gus; but tomorrow 
will be a busy day for you. Now bring me some rolls and a 
cup of tea, then you must go to sleep so you will be in good 
shape for tomorrow.” 


XXII 


It was the daily custom of Captain Heine to telephone to 
Theresa some time during the day, but at seven o’clock in the 
evening on which she intended to try to get possession of 
the papers as she had promised Reaves, he had not called. 
The day for her had been one filled with dread and doubt. 
She had decided on a plan of action, but she knew Captain 
Heine was a close observer; possessed a briliant intellect, 
and was constantly on the lookout for the least suspicious 
act on the part of others. He had made a special study of 
that phase of human nature, and knowing these facts she 
was afraid that something would go wrong in carrying out 
her plans. She thought of many things that might happen, 
any one of which would cast suspicion upon her and be the 
undoing of both herself and Reaves. She looked at her 
wrist watch again, it was seven-thirty, and still he had not 
called. She began to get nervous. What would Reaves 
think if she were not at the appointed place, and what would 
happen if he should go to Captain Heine’s apartment and not 
find her there, and suppose that the captain should go to the 
door and meet Reaves; something terrible would certainly 
happen. She must get him word somehow but then she 
did not know where to find him. In her excitement nothing 
was clear in her mind. She wished she had let Reaves sug¬ 
gest, as he had wanted to do, just how she could help him, 
but it was too late now. A feeling of being alone in the 
world suddenly came over her. She was facing a difficult 
and dangerous task and she had to face it alone. The tele¬ 
phone bell rang, she started suddenly with a gasp, she did 
not want to appear eager or anxious, so she let the maid 
answer it to give her a little time to regain her composure. 
The maid picked up the receiver and in a moment announced 
that Captain Heine wished to speak to her. She hurried 
across the room and nervously picked up the receiver and 
placed it to her ear. He was sorry not to have called earlier 
she heard him say, but he had been over to Potsdam attend¬ 
ing an important meeting. 


184 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 185 


“I knew you had some good reason for not calling me 
earlier,” she replied, “and I thought probably you had been 
suddenly called out of the city; but I am glad you didn’t have 
to go away for a long trip.” 

She tightened her lips suddenly fearing she had said the 
wrong thing, but his voice sounded again. 

“You know I always let you know when I have to go away 
for several days.” 

“I know you usually do,” she admitted, “but the other 
night you acted so differently.” 

“How different?” he asked. 

“Let’s not discuss it over the ’phone,” she replied. 

“Well,” he said, “I will come around tonight and we will 
talk it over.” 

She hardly knew how to answer him, of all times this was 
the one time that he must come, but she must not appear too 
anxious. 

“Do you really want to see me tonight?” she finally asked, 
teasingly. 

“Why certainly, a man always wants to see his future 
wife.” 

“Well, you may come for a little while,” she told him. 

It was almost nine when he arrived. 

“I was detained at the war office,” he said as he entered, 
“but it was unavoidable and I hope you will excuse me this 
time.” 

She smiled and extended her hand and as he pressed it to 
his lips she asked, “How are things going at the war office?” 

“Everything is very encouraging; our army is victorious 
on every battlefront, but the intelligence office has not yet 
found out where the leakage is that is responsible for so 
much information reaching our enemies. I cannot believe,” 
he continued in a business-like manner, “that this American 
or any of his organization could have gotten all the infor¬ 
mation that has leaked out of the war office recently.” 

“Haven’t you caught the American yet?” she asked. 

He shook his head and took a puff at his cigarette. “No, 
but we believe we have arrested a man who knows a great 
deal about his movements. But let’s not discuss the Ameri¬ 
can tonight or anything concerning this awful war. I have 
been working very hard recently and I feel a bit worn out. 


186 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


When I come around and talk to you or take you out, it 
makes me forget the great problems of the secret service.” 

“I am glad to know that you really like to drop in to see 
me,” she remarked and smiling at him she added, “I assure 
you that you have saved me from spending many lonesome 
hours here alone.” 

'‘Do you really miss me when I am away several days?” 
he asked, looking at her seriously. 

She looked at him with a mocking smile. “You have 
been very nice to me since I have been in the city and, of 
course, it would get very monotonous if I had to stay in this 
apartment every evening and read or play the piano to amuse 
myself. There are lots of times that I don’t get out at all 
during the day.” 

“How would you like to walk up to the Adlon Hotel and 
see if any of our friends are about tonight?” 

“I should love to go for a walk,” she replied, and as she 
arose from her seat she added: 

“We can stop by the hotel on our way.” 

She called the maid to bring her heavy fur coat and they 
were soon in the street. 

“Which way?” he said, as he extended his arm. She had 
already started in the direction of his apartment, but she 
answered carelessly: 

“Most any old way just so we are walking.” 

They walked along several blocks talking of various things 
more or less familiar to them both. Soon they were in sight 
of the large house in which his apartment was located. He 
looked down at her and said pleasantly: 

“It looks as if you have started home with me.” 

She smiled back at him as she said, “I might wish I was.” 
And after a moment’s hesitation she asked, “Who looks after 
your apartment? I imagine it’s a mess, like all bachelor 
apartments; books on the floor, papers scattered around; all 
bachelor apartments are like that.” 

“Mine is the exception,” he said proudly, “you know, I 
have an old lady who comes to put it in order every morn¬ 
ing.” 

They were nearing the entrance and he had not asked her 
to go up and see his apartment; she had refused so often that 
she was afraid he did not intend to ask her that evening. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 187 


“What books do you keep around ?” she asked. “I would 
like to have something new to read.’ , 

“I have several recent books, but to tell you the truth I 
have been so busy I haven’t read them.” They had passed 
the apartment house without stopping. When he had asked 
her to go up and see his apartment on previous occasions 
she had told him she did not think it proper, but tonight she 
had given him a hint and he had not asked her; but some 
way she must contrive to get him to do that one important 
thing. They walked on to the end of the block, then she 
turned to him and said: 

“We had better turn here if we are going to stop in at the 
hotel on our way back.” 

“Just as you like, my dear Theresa,” he replied carelessly, 
as they slowly began to retrace their steps. 

He did not seem in a mood to make love to her tonight, so 
they talked of other things until they were in front of the 
apartment door, when he stopped abruptly and looked in 
the hall through the glass pane in the street door. 

“Please go up and get one or two of those books for me to 
read,” she said, “I haven’t anything worth reading. I will 
wait in the hall for you,” she told him. 

He looked at her intently before he spoke. “Really, 
Theresa you have never been in my apartment to see it, but 
I have a pretty good library and I see no reason why you 
cannot go up and look it over and select some books for 
yourself.” 

She looked away a moment and was silent. 

“Is it that you don’t trust me?” he asked. 

“No, it is not that Captain Heine. You have always been 
a gentleman in your conduct towards me. I have just never 
thought it quite the proper thing to do.” 

“Don’t be foolish, come on,” he said smilingly, as he took 
her by the arm and urged her through the door and up the 
steps. 

As they entered the apartment her feelings were mingled 
with delight and trepidation. He showed her all about the 
apartment; several large rooms beautifully furnished. 
Finally they came to the library where she noticed a large 
safe at sight of which she gripped her little handbag with 
a sense of fear. It contained the little vial of drugs and a 


188 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


piece of paper on which was written the combination of the 
safe. He walked around the room looking at the pictures 
on the wall and finally stopped in front of the bookcase and 
began taking out various volumes and looking through them. 
When she looked around she was alone. She selected a book 
and calmly took a seat. In a few minutes he returned and 
told her that he had gotten out a bottle of rare champagne 
and she must come and try it. Her heart gave a flutter as she 
followed him back to the room which he called the den. Now 
was her chance, she stood and watched while he uncorked the 
bottle and filled the two glasses, then they took seats on 
opposite sides of the little table. She started sipping her 
champagne while he turned his glass up and drank its con¬ 
tents without taking it from his lips. The drink soon revived 
his spirits and he began to talk about his apartment. Finally 
he looked at her, his eyes were full of love, desire and pas¬ 
sion. 

“We would be so happy living here, Theresa, please tell 
me when you will marry me.” 

“Now, there you go,” she said, smiling at him, “you 
promised to be good if I would come up for a few minutes.” 

He rose from his seat and filled his glass again. At that 
moment the doorbell rang. Her heart again leaped to her 
throat. This was her opportunity unless—and she shud¬ 
dered as the thought came to her that it might be Reaves. 
She looked at her watch, it was ten twenty-five, and he was 
not due until a quarter of eleven. So it could not be he. 
Captain Heine was at the door and she heard him speaking 
to a messenger. 

The moment had arrived and she quickly took the small 
vial from her handbag and walking around the table emptied 
its contents in his glass, then went back to her seat and picked 
up her own glass. When he came back into the room she 
was still sipping champagne from the half-filled glass. 

“It was only a messenger from the office,” he said, “I don’t 
have to hurry.” He took up his glass and again took his seat 
on the couch at the opposite side of the table from her. 
After drinking half the contents of the glass he set it down 
on the table and looked away for a moment in silence, then he 
said with scorn on his face: 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 189 


“This mysterious American has been giving me a lot of 
trouble recently.” 

“You said you did not want to talk about him tonight,” 
put in Theresa. 

“All right I will tell you about it some other time then,” 
he said drowsily, as he took up his glass and drank all that 
was left, then he leaned back with his elbow on the couch, 
his hand supporting his head. In a few minutes his head 
dropped to the couch and he was sound asleep. 


XXIII 


The last day that Reaves spent in the city he arose at an 
early hour and while eating his breakfast he gave Gus explicit 
instructions for the day’s work. After Gus had left the 
house he went to the secret hiding place and took out the 
various reports which he had gotten from Miss Beeman, Gus 
and other sources and proceeded to translate them into his 
own private code. He never wrote names into his code mes¬ 
sages but always committed them to memory. When he had 
completed this work, which consumed most of the day, he 
burned the voluminous reports and only had a few sheets to 
hide away in a secret pocket. He picked up his pipe and 
took a seat, put his feet upon the little stool in front of him 
and proceeded to go over in his mind for the last time the 
whole plan of securing the important papers which were in 
Captain Heine’s possession and the difficult task of getting 
out of the country. The afternoon passed before he realized 
it. The reflection of the evening sun on the little dusty win¬ 
dows aroused him from his reverie, and he got up and looked 
out. If all goes well, he thought, it will be the last sunset I 
shall see in Berlin for some time. Twilight came, but 
Gus had not returned and he should have been back long 
before. He took a few steps around the room and went 
back to the window and turning his head right and left, 
scanned the street approaching the house. Well, he thought, 
Gus might have been followed and he decided it would be 
safer to wait until nightfall and slip in under cover of dark¬ 
ness. He leaned up against the wall near the window and 
was lost in thought. There was no light in the room. The 
twilight faded into darkness and still he stood there con¬ 
templating what he should do if Gus did not return. He 
turned again to the little window, with a feeling akin to hope¬ 
lessness. The little house was in a quiet section of the city, 
away from the busy thoroughfares and not a sound was 
heard about the place. 

As he looked out into the cold, bleak night a shadowy still¬ 
ness seemed to hover over the scene, and he had visions of 

190 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 191 


so ft-footed figures creeping around stealthily. Eight o’clock 
came, nine, nine-thirty. He did not deem it wise to light the 
little lamp with its smoked chimney; if Gus had been cap¬ 
tured a light in his house would certainly look suspicious, so 
he continued to pace the floor in darkness. “Theresa,” he 
said to himself, “has not given me away, she could not, she 
would not.” For a moment, visions of the days of their 
happiness floated before his memory. Then he thought of 
what a dangerous task she had undertaken. At that very 
moment she was matching her wits with one of the leading 
men of the Imperial Secret Service. Ten o’clock came. He 
must soon start. He suddenly stopped, all attention, he had 
heard a noise at the back door. He waited in silence with 
every nerve at high tension. It could not be Gus, and it 
might be soldiers coming to arrest him. Someone was trying 
to unlock the door. He went into the hall and listened. The 
door opened and he could see the form of a man faintly out¬ 
lined as he entered the dark doorway and softly closed the 
door behind him. There was only one, so he quickly decided 
to make himself known. 

“Who’s there?” he asked in German. 

“Gus sent me, sir,” replied a gruff voice. 

“Where is Gus and who are you?” asked Reaves rather 
abruptly. 

“Gus has been arrested, sir, and you wouldn’t know who I 
am if I told you, sir.” 

“Gus arrested ?” exclaimed Reaves. 

“Yes, sir, just as a suspect though, sir.” 

“Am I speaking to Herr Reaves, sir?” the man asked after 
a moment’s tense silence. 

“Yes,” replied Reaves. 

“Well, sir, Gus sent me here to warn you and to destroy 
all the evidence which might be collected here against him. 
They expect to search the house tonight or early in the 
morning.” 

After a moment’s silence in which he went over in his 
mind what might be used as evidence, Reaves turned to the 
man and said: 

“I will help you find and destroy everything, come this 
way.” He took from his pocket a small flashlight and led 
the way into the secret chamber. After collecting some 


192 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


papers and a few articles of clothing he went into every 
room in the old house, searching for evidence that might be 
used against Gus if found. He took the papers, some of 
which were more or less valuable to him, to the fireplace 
and watched the blaze convert them into ashes, then he turned 
to the man, who was very poorly clad and showed every 
evidence of poverty. 

‘‘You can have the clothes if you want them/* he told him, 
“it will be perfectly safe, they have no telltale marks on 
them.” 

It was then ten o'clock and Theresa had said a quarter of 
eleven. He wanted to arrive in the vicinity of Captain 
Heine’s apartment a little ahead of time to reconnoiter the 
premises. He took from his pocket some money and handed 
it to the man, who took it eagerly and thanked him. 

“I shall leave you here,” said Reaves. 

“Yes, sir,” said the man respectfully, then after a pause 
he added, “Gus told me to tell you, sir, that everything 
had been arranged.” 

“Thanks,” replied Reaves. 

He had already made up his mind to go to Captain Heine’s 
apartment regardless of consequences, but the man’s last 
remark made him feel at ease and dispelled many doubts and 
fears from his mind. He approached the apartment house 
from the rear, glancing in every direction as he walked slowly 
up the narrow side street. As he came to the alley running 
along beside the house he looked up at the fire escape, and 
he saw, clearly outlined against the starlit sky, the form of 
a man creeping up the steel ladder step by step. He looked 
at his watch; it was twenty minutes of eleven, only five 
minutes more and he would be at the door of his greatest 
enemy; but Theresa was there and she would not fail him. 
He went around to the front of the house; there were a few 
soldiers and civilians walking along the street, but no one 
seemed to be paying any attention to him, so he walked 
boldly in and ascended the stairs and stopped before the 
apartment door and listened. Not a sound was heard within, 
for a minute he waited, but it would not do to stand there. 
Someone from the other apartments might be stirring around 
and see him. Theresa had told him to be there at a quarter 
of eleven, and he was there on time; but where was she? 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 193 


As he waited, every nerve keyed to the highest pitch of ex¬ 
pectancy, there was a noise below; someone had come into 
the hall and had started up the steps. He took hold of the 
door knob and started turning it slowly. The door was sud¬ 
denly opened from the inside and Theresa stood facing him, 
pale and excited. She held up her hand for silence and 
motioned him to enter. He closed the door noiselessly and 
looked at her. She pointed to the back room and whispered 
to him: 

“I thought I had the combination to the safe,” she stam¬ 
mered ; “he left it with some other papers at the studio one 
day, but I cannot open the safe.” 

Reaves’ face suddenly became hard, while she cowered un¬ 
der his cold stare. 

“Have you doped this man ?” he asked. 

“Only a small amount in a glass of champagne,” she re¬ 
plied; “he was very tired and he will never suspect.” 

“There is no time to lose,” said Reaves. “Where is the 
safe?” 

She led the way to the library, and as she pulled the cur¬ 
tains back she gasped with horror and clutched his arm 
tightly. 

A man was kneeling before the safe, his back to them. 
Reaves had seen the man at the same time. The man at the 
safe paid no attention to them, but continued to turn the 
dial back and forth with his ear pressed close to the safe 
door. 

Reaves looked down into Theresa’s face with a reassur¬ 
ing smile and whispered to her softly. “Don’t get excited. 
I had him come here—you see, I could take no chances and 
[ thought probably you would have trouble with the safe.” 

“Who is he, Fred?” she asked, showing a little resent¬ 
ment at his thinking she might fail. 

“His name doesn’t matter, but he is one of the master 
criminals of Europe and can open a safe quicker than the 
men who make them.” 

“Aren’t you afraid of him?” 

Reaves shook his head. “I had him released from prison 
for just such jobs,” he replied. 

He had told the man not to enter the room unless he was 
given the sign, but from his position on the fire escape he 


194 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


had seen Theresa try to open the safe and fail, and knowing 
that time was precious, when she left the library he entered 
the room through the window and set to work to open the 
safe and procure the papers. 

After watching the man for a moment, Theresa suddenly 
released Reaves arm and hurried to the den—Captain Heine 
was stretched out on the couch, breathing heavily. Reaves 
walked over to the man kneeling by the safe. He was turn¬ 
ing the dial back and forth in feverish haste. He stood by 
him and looked on in silence. Presently there was a faint 
sound of metal dropping against metal, the man turned the 
handle and the heavy door swung open. Reaves dropped to 
his knees and took out a bundle of papers which he exam¬ 
ined hurriedly. He quickly found the one he wanted and 
proceeded to copy it. Theresa entered the room and spoke to 
him softly, but he appeared not to hear and continued to 
write rapidly. In a very few minutes he had made a copy 
and gotten the information he wanted. He placed the copy 
in his pocket and arranged the papers as they were before 
and replaced them in the safe. The man closed the door and 
left the room by the window through which he had entered. 
After he had gone Reaves took out his handkerchief and ran 
it over the dial and other places which had been touched 
about the safe to obliterate the finger-prints. When he 
turned around Thereas was watching him with anxious face. 

“Did you find the paper you wanted ?” she asked nervously. 

“Yes,” he replied in almost a whisper, “and not a trace 
has been left to indicate that we have been here.” 

“Then you are ready to go away, to a place of safety, 
aren’t you?” 

“I shall try to get back across the border in the quickest 
possible time,” he answered. 

“Good-bye. Fred; and God bless you,” she said, extending 
her hand to him. 

He took her extended hand and held it, and while he looked 
into her troubled face he said, “Theresa, I shall never forget 
what you have done tonight.” 

She did not speak nor take her eyes from his. He took a 
step forward, hesitated, then released her hand and hurriedly 
left the room by the door which he had entered. 


XXIV 


After Reaves had left Captain Heine’s apartment Theresa 
looked around carefully to see that everything was in order 
and placed exactly where it was before his visit. She fas¬ 
tened the catch on the window and adjusted the shade, picked 
up a few bits of paper from the floor near the safe and saw 
that the night latch on the front door was left so the apart¬ 
ment could be entered from the outside. She had noticed 
Captain Heine had left it that way when they entered. After 
satisfying herself that everything was in order she went 
back to the little den, picked up a magazine and took a seat 
by the center table and in front of the couch on which he 
was sleeping. She leaned over towards him and listened; 
he was breathing normally and was to all appearances enjoy¬ 
ing a much-needed rest. She called him, but he did not 
answer and made no movement. She became a little nervous, 
but decided to let him sleep longer so the effects of the drug 
would be worn off when he awoke. She tried to read, but 
the events of the night and the thought that he might sus¬ 
pect the truth from the way he would feel when he awoke 
prevented her from concentrating her mind on anything 
other than the part she was playing in the little drama. She 
arose from her seat and went back to the library and stood 
before the window. 

Not a sound could be heard. The silence under such cir¬ 
cumstances was appalling. The clock in the tower a few 
blocks away struck the hour of one. She must get back to 
her own little apartment, her maid would not know what to 
think. She seldom stayed out that late and Captain Heine 
h^d told her he could only take a short rest and that she 
must awaken him if he should sleep too long. She went 
back and looked into the den. He had changed his position 
on the couch, but was still quiet. She went softly into the 
room and opened a window near the couch. As the cold 
night air rushed in she wrapped her long fur coat tightly 
about her and again took a seat in the chair as though read¬ 
ing. Presently he moved and opened his eyes. She turned 


196 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

her face from the open magazine and looking at him with 
a pleasant smile said, “You have had a nice nap; I hope you 
feel rested.” 

Her words seemed to bring him to his senses. 

“What time is it ?” he asked. 

“A few minutes after one,” she told him. 

He suddenly sat up on the couch and put his hand to his 
forehead and held it there for a minute without speaking. 

“What is the matter?” she queried with a desperate effort 
not to appear nervous. 

“I feel a little dizzy,” he replied. 

“You will be all right in a minute,” she assured him, and 
arising from her seat, “won’t you let me get you a cup of 
tea?” 

“I think I would like to have a cup if you don’t mind 
making it,” he replied drowsily. 

She hurried to the kitchenette and in a very few minutes 
brought him a cup filled with steaming tea which she had 
taken particular pains to make very strong. He drank it 
down almost at one gulp. 

“Aren’t you going to take some ?” he asked. 

“No,” she said, “but I am going to take a glass of cham¬ 
pagne if you don’t mind.” 

She had broken the small vial which had contained the 
drug and thrown the pieces out of the window, and now he 
must not think there was anything wrong with the cham¬ 
pagne. The bottle from which he had taken two glasses 
when they first came in was still on the table, so she went 
over and poured out a glass and started drinking. 

“ You must drink some of this tea,” he said, “it is fine.” 

He was gazing at her intently while she drank the glass of 
champagne, and at the same time talked in a normal tone, 
so that he might not become suspicious. 

“I believe I will have some tea,” she answered with an air 
of indifference; then, “let’s go back in the kitchenette and 
get it.” 

He walked a little unsteadily as they went back for the tea. 
She poured another cup for him and some for herself and 
started to drink hers while he stood and watched her. 

“I don’t feel right,” he said, rubbing his eyes with his 
free hand. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 197 


“I don’t doubt it,” she agreed, “for you are simply killing 
yourself with work.” 

“I wonder if that champagne I drank is good,” he said 
thoughtfully. 

“I drank a glass with you, and some more a few minutes 
ago and it hasn’t hurt me yet,” she replied, looking at him 
with a smile. 

The strong beverage had stimulated him and he looked 
much better, so she wanted to dispel all idea of the cham¬ 
pagne affecting him from his mind. 

‘‘You are just tired and a bit worn out,” she continued, 
“but you will be all right after you get a good night’s rest. 
What did you eat for dinner?” she suddenly asked, looking 
at him in a very much interested manner. “You know at 
times you have an awful appetite and I have seen you eat 
all kinds of mixtures.” 

“Yes,” he replied, still a little stupidly, “but they seldom 
make me feel like—er—badly.” 

She went over and turned off the electric heater as she 
remark casually, “it is getting late and I must be getting 
back.” 

They went back to the den and she took up the glass in 
which she had left some champagne and drank what was left. 

“Won’t you take another glass before we go?” she asked. 

He shook his head, “No, thanks,” he replied, “it might 
have been what makes me feel so stupid.” 

She picked up his heavy overcoat and assisted him to put it 
on. Then he walked into the library and knelt before the 
safe and started turning the dial. 

Her heart leaped to her throat with fear as she thought 
he might find something missing, or his papers not arranged 
as he had left them and his suspicions be aroused, but she 
quickly recalled that Reaves had told her not a trace of his 
visit had been left and the thought reassured her. She 
watched him open the safe and take out and open a package 
of papers and examine them carefully, then replace them and 
close the safe door. He turned to face her as he said, “Let’s 
go, I have to return to the war office after I take you home.” 


XXV 


A division of troops, after three days of forced marching, 
had reached a town just back of the British lines in Flanders. 
It was late in the afternoon and they had stopped for a 
much-needed rest and were waiting for darkness so they 
could march to the front line trenches unobserved by the 
enemy’s lookouts. The brave women of the Red Cross as 
usual were on hand to serve them with hot coffee and sand¬ 
wiches. An officer in the uniform of the Royal Flying 
Corps stepped into line with other officers to be served when 
his turn came. As the line moved on and he approached the 
stand which was out in the open, he could see those ahead 
devouring the sandwiches at a rapid rate, and see the steam 
coming up from the hot coffee in the large cans. He awaited 
his turn impatiently. Impetuous natures can never be patient 
while they wait for something good or bad to happen and 
this was a man of action. The girls were working diligently 
handing out a sandwich and a cup of coffee to each soldier 
but to this man it seemed they needed more speed. 

“What’s the matter up front?” asked an officer, who was 
also getting a little impatient. 

“The girls, God bless them, don’t appreciate the value of 
minutes,” answered the man of the Royal Flying Corps. 

One girl must have heard, for she stopped a moment and 
looked around, but the others paid no attention to the re¬ 
mark and kept right on going back and forth from coffee 
and sandwiches to soldiers and from soldiers back to coffee 
and sandwiches. One of the girls serving so faithfully looked 
strangely familiar to the man of the air service, and he 
craned his neck to look around the man in front of him. 
The line moved up and he could see her better. “My heav¬ 
ens,” he exclaimed, “it is certainly she.” They were now in 
front of the stand, he was the next man to be served and 
one of the girls was approaching him. He turned half 
around as if attracted by something. The next man got his 
portion. When he turned back another was holding out both 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 199 


hands to him 1 . She was not looking his way. He took the 
cup of coffee with one hand and caught hold of her hand 
gently with the other. Her face flushed and she quickly 
looked up into his face. He was smiling at her graciously, 
she could not place him. He did not take his eyes from her, 
and after a moment’s silence he said: 

“I am so glad to find you here doing your bit.” He saw 
that she still did not recognize him, but determined not to 
tell her his name. 

“Where is Miss Rotherford and your brother? Have 
they gotten married yet?” he continued. 

She had never seen him in his uniform and he had grown 
a mustache, and had gained in weight. While there was 
something very familiar about him she could not recall 
where she had heard that voice before, and seeing that she 
was puzzled he said: 

“When did you see the Countess St. Cere and Prince 
Polini ?” 

“Oh,” she said, suddenly changing her expression, “it is 
Mr. Reaves.” 

“None other,” he said, still smiling at her in a boyish way, 
“but I was determined not to let go your hand until you 
called my name, and you don’t know how much I enjoyed 
making you recognize me.” 

“You are very clever,” she said, looking at him out of 
the corner of her eye. 

“Compliments are out of order during the war, Lady 
Helen. Now answer the question I asked you a minute ago.” 

“Oh, let me see, what did you ask me?” 

“I must not repeat,” he replied jokingly, “there might be 
a spy around.” 

“Oh, yes,” she said, “you asked me about the Countess 
St. Cere. Is she a spy?” 

“Yes, but you are asking me questions instead of answering 
mine; now tell me about the others.” 

She ignored his question and said, “I don’t like you to 
say the countess is a spy; she is a friend of mine.” 

“Was, but is not now,” he corrected. 

She looked at him for a moment solemnly, then said, “Has 
been, then, if it suits you better.” 

“Now answer my two questions,” he persisted. 


200 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“Well, Louise is here in the camp some place, I don’t 
know just where now, and brother has gone to Paris, but 
will be back this evening. They were quietly married in 
London some time ago.” 

For some moments Reaves was lost in deep thought, then 
looking at Lady Helen he said, “I must look them up and 
congratulate them. I know they are happy as two larks.” 

“You certainly must; they will be so glad to see you. 
We have often talked about you during these many months 
you have been away.” 

She turned and looked at the long line of soldiers waiting 
to be served. “Please excuse me, Mr. Reaves, this line is 
getting rather long and I know the poor boys are dreadfully 
hungry.” 

“Surely, but I simply had to bother you for a minute— 
and where can I find you later?” 

“We will be at headquarters building about eight-thirty.” 

“Meaning you and Miss Rotherford or rather Lady Cul¬ 
len ?” he added. 

“Yes, and Prince Polini,” she replied. 

“Prince Polini here?” he exclaimed. 

“Yes, he arrived this morning,” she said, looking at him 
with a shy kind of a smile. 

For a moment he stood looking at her, then a smile 
broke over his face as he saluted and walked away. 


XXVI 


When Reaves arrived at the Red Cross building just be¬ 
fore mess hour he found Lady Helen and Lady Cullen in 
conversation with Prince Polini. In a short time they were 
joined by Lord Cullen, who had started out on an extended 
tour of inspection and just dropped in to see his sister and 
wife on his way. It was a joyous meeting of old friends, 
and they had not met since that eventful night in London 
when Reaves attended an important meeting at the war office 
and left for the continent immediately afterwards. Reaves 
and the Englishman had many things of importance to dis¬ 
cuss but they must have a few minutes with the ladies before 
taking up the secrets of war. 

“Where on earth have you been all these months ?” asked 
Lady Cullen after greetings were extended. 

“You are far too clever to want me to tell you,” answered 
Reaves as he turned to her with a smile. 

“I’ll bet you haven’t been in France all this time,” con¬ 
tinued Lady Cullen ignoring his rebuff. 

“We Americans,” he said, looking at her, “are used to 
large territory, and France is a small country. It is hard for 
a bird of passage like myself to stay within her boundaries.” 

An officer of the air service came in to speak to Cullen and 
after a little conference they went out together. 

Lady Helen and the Prince, feeling that the two Ameri¬ 
cans wanted to talk to each other, soon found an excuse 
and left Reaves and Lady Cullen alone in the reception room. 

“Now,” she said, turning to him as soon as they were 
alone, “none of your saucy answers to my questions. Tell 
me something about yourself and what you have been doing.” 

He knew what she wanted to talk about so he turned to 
her and began, “I have had a pretty hard time since I saw 
you last. After leaving London I came to Paris, where I 
spent a few weeks, and from there I went to Switzerland, 
and then I crossed the border again.” 

Did you go to Berlin ?” she asked eagerly. 

201 


202 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


He was not looking at her, but at something on the wall 
when he answered. “I spent several dreadful days there.” 

‘Then you saw Theresa, didn’t you? Tell me about her.” 

“I cannot,” he answered sadly, “not yet, other than to 
say she is very unhappy.” 

“I am so sorry. I do wish there was something I could 
do. Do you think she cares anything for this German 
officer ?” 

“I am afraid I am a poor judge of women, I never know 
how to figure out just what a woman thinks or feels. In my 
experience with the sex very few of them think seriously 
for any considerable length of time. They seem to let their 
emotions control their actions and are blown about by the 
changeable and merciless winds of circumstances.” 

She looked at him seriously. “You are entirely wrong, 
Mr. Reaves; all women are not that way and I will not 
allow you to speak of Theresa as a creature of emotions.” 

“I hope that some day I will find that I am wrong,” com¬ 
mented Reaves a little bitterly. 

“I want to tell you something that I know partly from 
my slight acquaintance with Theresa, but mostly because 
of a woman’s instinct—she cares for you very deeply—she 
has loved you for a long time, and you are not treating 
her right by maintaining the cold, indifferent attitude you 
have towards her for some time.” 

“You do not understand the circumstances—Lady Louise. 
She told me that if she ever wanted to see me again she 
would send for me, and she has not sent for me.” 

“But she sent you a message warning you to leave Berlin, 
the time that you helped my husband to escape across the 
border,” put in Lady Louise, “and she would not have done 
that unless she cared—and cared a great deal.” 

For a moment there was silence between them, finally 
she looked at him and said, “I want you to promise me that 
if you go back to Berlin you will go to see her.” At that 
moment Lord Cullen returned for Reaves to take him to the 
officers’ mess, and as he arose to leave he said, “I cannot 
refuse to do anything you ask, Lady Cullen.” 

After Cullen and Reaves finished their meal they retired 
to the officers’ quarters where all were engaged in a general 
discussion of the war. The Lusitania incident, and Ger- 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 203 


many’s relentless submarine policy, would certainly bring 
America into the conflict soon, Reaves had told them. 

“If she doesn’t hurry up we are lost,” said a high ranking 
officer next to him. 

“Our lines certainly need strengthening, and I doubt if 
we can stand another offensive on a large scale,” commented 
Lord Cullen. 

A messenger stuck his head in the doorway and called out, 
“Major Reaves.” 

“Over here,” answered Reaves carelessly. 

The soldier came up and saluted. Reaves returned the 
salute and took a telegram the soldier held in his extended 
hand. He rested his pipe between his teeth and tore the 
end from the yellow envelope. As he started to read it a 
cloud flashed over his face; his features became set and his 
eyes narrowed almost to slits. The other officers sitting 
around looked at him with deep concern and awaited for 
him to enlighten them as to its contents, but they were 
disappointed. When he had finished reading he passed the 
telegram over to Lord Cullen, who also read it with deep 
concern. It was a matter for him to handle and he did not 
need the army to help Him, but he wanted his friend to know 
the importance of the message. After a minute’s silence, 
he turned to the others and said: 

“If you will excuse Lord Cullen and myself I would like 
to have a few words with him.” 

The two men walked out of the building and stopped a 
little distance from the door. 

ff What are you going to do about this matter?” asked 
Cullen. 

“I must get to Monte Carlo at the earliest possible mo¬ 
ment,” was the prompt reply. 

“Well, you can get a train out of here in a couple of hours 
and be there day after tomorrow morning,” Cullen told him. 

“That will be twenty-four hours too late; I must get there 
tomorrow morning.” 

The airdrome was just across the open field and Reaves 
was looking in that direction when he said, “I want you to 
furnish me the fastest plane you have and the best pilot in 
camp.” 

The Englishman thought a minute before replying. “We 


204 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


are expecting to go over the top at 5.20 in the morning and 
will probably need all our pilots for duty at that hour/’ 

“But this is both important and urgent,” persisted Reaves, 
looking at the Englishman seriously. 

Lord Cullen knew Reaves to be a determined man and 
decided that as he did not understand the full import of the 
message, Reaves had good and sufficient reasons of his own 
for wanting to get to Monte Carlo the following morning, 
so without saying another word he started off towards the 
airdrome and Reaves dropped in beside him. 

“We will see what can be done,” said Cullen. 

“It is very necessary that I be in Monte Carlo at the 
earliest possible moment,” commented Reaves. 

They walked along in utter darkness, not even a single 
star could be seen, all the lights had been extinguished, so 
the camp would not be a target for the enemy aeroplanes 
and long range guns. After walking over rough ground and 
stumbling over several shell holes made by bombs dropped 
from the enemy planes, they arrived at a tent where Cullen 
made himself known, and the commanding officer of the 
Aero Squadron asked what he could do for them. 

“This is Major Reaves,” said Cullen. 

The officer looked at him and quickly appraised him from 
head to foot. Reaves snapped into position and saluted. 
The officer returned his salute and asked them to be seated. 
They took a seat on an old box which had been turned into 
an improvised bench. 

Cullen turned to Reaves and said, “Now state your case.” 

Reaves turned to the officer quickly. “The details are not 
important to you, sir; what I want is a plane and the best 
pilot you have in camp. I must be in Monte Carlo tomorrow 
morning. It is most important.” 

“Have you been ordered there, Major?” asked the officer. 

Reaves suddenly shot his narrowed eyes at the officer, but 
did not answer his question. 

Cullen knew Reaves did not want to tell his business so 
he decided he had better give the officer an inkling of the 
man who had made such an unusual request without any 
explanation. 

“The Major,” he said, “is of the intelligence service and 
has a good bit of freedom in dealing with matters which 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 205 


come under that department. He has just received a mes¬ 
sage which he feels makes it imperative that he take this 
trip tonight.” 

The officer moved in his chair; he was not yet convinced 
of the great importance of Reaves’ proposed trip. He 
turned to Cullen as he said, “We take the air at 4.40 in the 
morning to direct the artillery to clear the w“ay for the 
infantry to go over the top at 5.20.” 

“Can’t you spare one good pilot?” put in Reaves impa¬ 
tiently, as he arose and strode about the tent, chafing under 
the delay. 

“I have known the Major a long time,” put in Cullen, 
noticing his growing impatience, “and I can vouch for this 
being a very important mission. He has done great service 
for our cause.” 

The officer looked again at Reaves for a full minute, en¬ 
grossed in deep thought. Suddenly his eyes lighted up and 
he leaned forward in his chair and fixed his eyes steadily on 
Reaves, who had stopped immediately in front of him. 

“I have been thinking,” he said, “and I wonder if it is 
possible that you are Frederick Reaves, the American who a 
short time ago made his way from Berlin with important in¬ 
formation for us.” 

“I was in Berlin some time ago,” replied Reaves, “and 
came into possession of some of the secrets of the German 
war office, which I turned over to the Allies, but I want to 
go to Monte Carlo now.” 

The officer got up from his seat and came around the 
table and took Reaves’ hand. “As a loyal subject of the 
King, I want to thank you for what you have done in our 
cause; and furthermore I am going to send out and see what 
pilots are available and do the best I can for you.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said Reaves, becoming more quiet. At 
that moment Prince Polini entered and they all started dis¬ 
cussing the great battle which was to begin at 5.20 the fol¬ 
lowing morning. 

“I am sorry I can’t be here to see the battle,” remarked 
Reaves. 

“What’s your hurry?” asked the prince. “I am going to 
view it from the mountain myself.” 


306 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“I am compelled to be in Monte Carlo tomorrow morn¬ 
ing, my dear prince.” 

“But you can’t make it,” said the prince. 

“The colonel is going to send me by aeroplane.” 

“This is an important trip that Major Reaves has to make,” 
commented Cullen. The prince thought a minute then 
turned to the commanding officer and said, “You need all 
the pilots you have for tomorrow’s battle; let me send the 
major to Monte Carlo in my private machine. I have one 
of the best pilots in the service—and he can return for me.” 

“That would really help out if it suits Major Reaves,” 
said the officer. 

“That would be very kind of his highness, and it suits me 
perfectly,” said Reaves. 

An order was immediately sent to Lieutenant Musello, 
pilot of the prince’s plane, to get ready as quickly as possible 
for a long flight. 

After a few minutes they went out into the darkness and 
made their way to where the planes were parked. 

The camp was in utter darkness. The hushed stillness 
was oppressive and it was hard to believe that eight hours 
hence thousands of men over miles of the front would be 
in a death struggle for the mastery of Europe. In a few 
minutes a motor started near them. 

“The pilot is tuning up his motor,” said the prince, turning 
to the others—“I will go over and give him instructions.” 

Reaves and Cullen lagged behind. “When shall we see 
you again?” asked Cullen. 

“That I cannot tell you. I am afraid it is a long trail and 
I have a feeling it will lead me into many dangers.” 

“All is ready, Major,” called out the prince. 

Reaves had borrowed from an aviator a heavy coat and 
cap and a pair of goggles which he hurriedly put on. 

As he took his seat in the plane the three men who had 
come out with him shook his hand and wished him bon 
voyage, and as the engine speeded up he turned his head and 
spoke to Cullen, “Good-bye, my friend, explain to Lady 
Cullen and your sister and tell them I am sorry I did not 
get to see them again.” 

In a few minutes they Were soaring in the clouds with a 
heavy mist settling on them. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 207 


After they had been in the air for some time, Reaves 
leaned over and spoke to the pilot. “What direction are we 
going?” he asked. 

“We are flying a little southeast, sir, on almost a straight 
line to Monte Carlo.” 

“Good,” commented Reaves. “Can we make it by morn¬ 
ing?” 

“If we have no accidents, sir, we should arrive around 
sunrise. We stop at Lyon for a few minutes to look the 
engine over.” 

Above the noise of the engine and the current of air made 
by the terrific speed at which they were traveling, Reaves 
could hear the rumbling noise of big guns. For a minute he 
listened silently, then he asked, “What place are we over 
now ?” 

“We are approaching Rheims, sir,” replied the pilot, “and 
I think their artillery is in action.” Reaves looked down 
towards earth but all was darkness, that impenetrable black¬ 
ness which came from a moonless night when every star is 
hidden by a cloud. He resumed his seat and looked at his 
luminous wrist watch. It was ten-forty. He crouched down 
into the narrow seat and pulled the collar of his overcoat up 
about his face. He hardly felt the current of air now, but 
the rumbling noise made him restless and after a short 
attempt to rest he sat up again and looked over the other 
side of the plane. To their left a wonderful sight greeted 
him. The clouds had parted beneath them. 

They were more than two miles up in the air but he could 
make out in the darkness the faint outlines of two ranges of 
mountains. They were just over a wide and deep valley. 
From the range of mountains on either side of the valley 
which were miles apart, great flashes of light could be seen 
at regular intervals. They would flash from first one side 
then the other. At times they could be seen from the moun¬ 
tains on both sides of the valley at the same time. It was 
the German heavy artillery bombarding the city of Rheims 
and the French artillery returning shot for shot. Reaves 
was almost dazed with a feeling of awe as he leaned over the 
side of the plane and gazed at the scene of horrors. When 
they had again passed into the clouds he took his seat and 
fell to thinking of what a terrible thing war really is. For 


208 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


hours they continued almost in a straight line and arrived at 
Lyon without mishap about two-thirty in the morning. 

While they went into an all-night cafe to get coffee and 
sandwiches, a mechanic went over the plane carefully to see 
that the mechanism was in working order and filled the tank 
with petrol. They were soon on their way again flying al¬ 
most due southeast and heading straight for Nice. They 
were on the last lap of the long and tiresome trip and while 
Reaves had not slept during the night he felt exuberant and 
eager for the task which lay before him. After flying a 
couple of hours they could see, when looking toward the 
east, that the skyline had begun to show signs of light and 
as the sky became brighter they looked down through the 
observation windows and the outline of the old and quaint 
villages on the terraine a mile below were becoming more 
and more visible. Reaves always had a mind for the artistic 
and when the pilot called out that they were approaching 
their destination he leaned over the side of the plane and 
gazed ahead. Far in the hazy distance he saw the beautiful 
and picturesque city of Nice—the world’s playground— 
nestling at the foot of the great mountain range, and just 
beyond were the clear, blue waters of the Mediterranean, 
throwing up brilliant reflections from the morning sun. 
They made a safe landing and when they had climbed out 
of their seats Reaves turned and said, “I leave you here.” 

He took the pilot by the hand as he continued, “I want 
to thank you, Lieutenant Musello, for your good work in 
getting me here so quickly.” 

“I have been honored, sir,” replied the lieutenant, “in 
having aboard such a distinguished passenger. I hope, sir, 
that I will some day have the pleasure of serving you again.” 

For a moment Reaves seemed to realize what danger he 
was going into. His eyes were fixed upon the waves beating 
against the shore a short distance away. 

“I hope so, but one never knows in times like these,” he 
said. 

The pilot saluted as he said, “Good-bye, Major, and luck 
to you.” Reaves returned his salute and walked hurriedly 
away. 


XXVII 


At eleven o’clock in the morning three men stood inside 
the main entrance to the Casino at Monte Carlo. They had 
gone in by a back door. The croupiers were in their places 
at the tables, but only a few people had started to play, 
though the various rooms were fast being filled. They were 
coming in single file, by twos, fours and whole parties, who 
had come mostly out of curiosity. The three men stood 
back of the regular attendants at the door and well out of 
sight, one of the men scrutinized every face as the individual 
entered the building. Occasionally he would turn to his 
companions and ask if they recognized or knew a certain 
person entering, or call their attention to a certain face. 

After they had been on watch for more than an hour 
and the Casino was filled almost to capacity, the countenance 
of the man who stood off a little distance from the other 
two suddenly lighted up and he nudged his companions who 
quickly looked in the direction of the main doorway. Three 
people were coming up the steps; one a tall man who looked 
to all appearances a typical Russian nobleman, the other a 
small, dapper man with black hair, sharp-cut features and 
keen eyes, which seemed to take in at a glance everything 
within range of his vision, and between them walked a lady, 
tall, stately and beautifully gowned. She was calm and 
graceful and smiled graciously as she turned her head in 
carrying on a conversation with both companions at the same 
time. One of the three men standing out of sight near the 
door was Frederick Reaves and after the trio passed into 
the Casino, he turned to the others and said solmenly, 
“There is more mystery here than I counted on, now.” 

“I am going up in the watch tower and watch the move¬ 
ments of the people about the rooms for a while and if any¬ 
one of the three leaves the Casino have him shadowed. We 
must sift this thing to the bottom.” The two men nodded 
their heads as evidence that they had understood, then 
Reaves left them and walked up to the winding stairs to the 

209 


2io BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


top floor of the building where he stopped in front of a door 
and took from his pocket a small key which had been given 
him that morning and let himself in, and locked the door 
behind him. The room commanded a view of practically the 
whole of the lower floor by means of small peep-holes on 
every side. 

By this time a considerable number of people were playing 
at the tables and many others were standing around or going 
from table to table watching the players. He had been there 
watching the movements of the three people in whose actions 
he was so much interested, when they apparently incidentally 
met two other gentlemen and they all were now gathered 
around a table having a drink and engaged in serious con¬ 
versation. He studied them very carefully making mental 
notes so he would be able to recognize any one of them if 
it ever again became necessary. The man who so much re¬ 
sembled a Russian nobleman was well disguised but that did 
not prevent Reaves recognizing him. 

He had been watching at the peep-holes for some time, 
when suddenly someone tried the door and finding it locked 
tried a key, but Reaves had left his key in the lock and the 
man outside, failing in his attempts to unlock the door, began 
to knock loudly. Reaves went over and turned the key and 
when he opened the door he stood facing a man in uniform. 

“Who are you, that you should take such liberties as you 
are taking in the principality of Monaco?” asked the big 
man in uniform as he stepped into the little room and pushed 
the door together. Reaves fixed his cold eyes upon him with 
an expression of utter surprise, which soon changed to dis¬ 
gust, and after appraising the uniformed man from head to 
foot he took some papers from his pocket and handed them 
to him without speaking. After he had read the passport 
and looked at his official card of identification, he turned 
around with a grunt. 

“And you are Mr. Reaves of the allied intelligence serv¬ 
ice,” he said, with a sneer on his face. “Your name means 
nothing to me,” he continued in a gruff voice, “and further¬ 
more your presence here is a violation of the neutrality of 
the principality.” 

“I am perfectly aware of that fact,” said Reaves, who was 
beginning to lose patience. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 211 


“Well,” said the man, “I warn you that unless you leave 
immediately I shall have to arrest you.” 

Reaves took a step backward and folded his arms across 
his chest. An attitude of firm resolve and a position ready 
for attack or defense. 

“I take it from your uniform,” he began, “that you are an 
inspector from the municipal police. I came by headquarters 
on my way here and one of your men is on watch downstairs 
at the present time. I am fully aware that my presence here 
is a violation of your neutrality, but the allied governments 
did not send me.” 

“Who did then?” asked the inspector angrily. 

“I will get to that presently,” continued Reaves calmly, 
“for a long time even before this war started this Casino has 
been a hothouse for spies. The Germans have had them 
here, and the Allies have been compelled to keep a watch on 
the place because you permitted all kinds of plots and 
schemes to be formed against them here, without turning a 
hand to prevent it; and now because I have dared to come 
into the open so to speak, you start a howl about it. If I 
had sneaked around like the others and spent a lot of money 
at the tables I could have pulled anything and you would 
have said nothing, but I purposely choose not to do that. 
I want you to understand me thoroughly. I am here in the 
interest of the Allies and in my own interest as well, and I 
came for certain specific reasons. You must know that at 
the present time there is a conference of great importance 
to our enemies going on here, and it is my business to 
find out what the enemy is doing or intends to do.” 

“We never pay any attention to the people who come here 
unless they start a disturbance,” remarked the inspector 
relaxing his attitude. 

“Nobody knows that better than I do,” said Reaves, “and 
the disturbance that bunch down on the lower floor are try¬ 
ing to start would be heard all over the world. I am here to 
stop it; and when that is done I will leave your little princi¬ 
pality in peace.” 

“Where are all these people you speak of?” asked the 
inspector. 

“Some of them are downstairs and the others are at their 
villas within the boundaries of the principality.” 


2 i2 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“How can I know that what you say is true?” 

“Let us go down and stroll through the rooms and I will 
point them out to you,” suggested Reaves. 

They walked out into the hall and started down the steps 
facing a large window through which they saw the blue 
waters of the Mediterranean. The inspector stopped sud¬ 
denly as he faced the window and seemed to be gazing at 
something far out at sea. Reaves glanced in that direction 
and saw a warship floating quietly at anchor. 

“I wonder what that is doing there?” said the inspector 

“She anchored there a few minutes after I arrived here 
this morning,” said Reaves, with a significant look. 

The inspector looked at him quickly. Their eyes met. 
Reaves did not change his expression. After a moment’s 
silence the inspector moved on down the steps with Reaves 
walking beside him. 

Reaves saw that the sight of a battleship anchored nearby 
had made a deep impression on the inspector, and decided 
not to discuss further his sudden appearance in the principal¬ 
ity, but to convince the inspector that he knew a lot about 
what was going on there which was contrary to international 
law. 

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they stopped and 
Reaves took from his pocket a piece of paper on which he 
had written some names. He had compiled the list since he 
came in that morning. The inspector looked it over and 
handed it back without comment. 

“Now, let us stroll around a bit,” said Reaves, “and I will 
point out to you a few of the people who are at the present 
time violating the neutrality of Monaco.” He knew several 
of the people he wanted to point out to the inspector well, 
and feeling satisfied that his own disguise would prevent his 
being recognized by them he led the way through the various 
rooms, and as they came in sight of the various ones he 
pointed them out and gave a brief history of their activities 
since war had been declared and some of them before it 
started. They finally arrived near one of the tables where 
they had a plain view of several people sitting around a table 
inside one of the small sitting-rooms—busily engaged in 
serious conversation, but apparently indulging in the ordinary 
gossip of the place. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 213 


“Now,” he said, “I want you to tell me what you know 
about the people in there.” He had purposely turned his 
back to the door and his face to the inspector so the official 
could get a plain view of the people inside the little room. 
He looked at the people inside the room for a moment and 
then looked away. 

“I do not recognize anyone in there,” he said, “but I think 
the detective at the bureau du chef could give us their 
names.” 

“I already know them,” said Reaves, as he again took the 
list of names from his pocket and handed it to the inspector. 
“The fifth name on the list,” he said, “is the little man with 
bead-like eyes, black hair and small mustache, wearing 
glasses; he is an Austrian who has lived a great deal of his 
life in Russia and Italy. The sixth name is that of the tall, 
well-groomed lady sitting to the right. She is a spy, and here 
in the interest of the central powers. Her activities have 
extended through Europe and Asia. She is of German and 
Russian parentage. Number eleven on the list,” he went on 
with particular emphasis, “is the tall, distinguished-looking 
fellow disguised so as to give you the impression that he is a 
Russian nobleman.” 

Reaves stopped and looked at the inspector, who after a 
moment’s hesitation asked him who the man was. 

“That,” replied Reaves, as he fixed his eyes on the in¬ 
spector, “is a high official in the German secret service.” 
After a moment’s hesitation he added, “I am going to take 
him with me when I leave the principality.” 

The big man in uniform shifted from one foot to the other 
and looked at Reaves with anger in his eyes. 

“If you can persuade him to leave you will do a favor for 
the department of police, sir.” 

“He will be persuaded to leave all right,” said Reaves, 
“but I cannot tell you at the present time just what form of 
persuasion will be used. You see,” continued Reaves, “he 
is a loyal subject of the Fatherland and a brave man, there¬ 
fore I shall not expect him to consent readily.” 

“Possibly you had better let me speak to him,” suggested 
the inspector. 

“You had better leave this to me,” said Reaves, “you will 
only precipitate trouble within your peaceful boundaries.” 


214 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“You English people are very persistent.” 

“But I am not an Englishman,” put in Reaves. 

“I don’t understand,” said the other looking very much 
annoyed. 

“Well, I am an American who has thrown in his lot with 
the Allies.” 

“That is most peculiar,” said the inspector, with a puz¬ 
zled expression. 

“Not at all, quite a number of them are doing that,” 
quickly replied Reaves. “You see there is a strong feeling on 
the other side that we will soon be in the war.” 

The inspector looked at Reaves long before speaking. He 
had told him if he didn’t leave the principality he would be 
arrested, and his threat had been treated with plain, yet cour¬ 
teous contempt. 

Reaves had pointed out to the inspector several interna¬ 
tional spies, and convinced him that they were carrying on 
their plots right in the Casino, yet he was irritated because 
Reaves had had the audacity to tell him that he knew he was 
violating the neutrality of Monaco, and now he had just 
pointed out to him the people he came after and told him 
he was going to take them back over the border with him. 
He must be stopped before he created a disturbance, he 
thought to himself. He looked at the man before him again 
from head to foot, he had not counted on meeting such a 
man. Reaves stood smoking a cigarette with perfect calm, 
but nevertheless he was alert. His eyes traveled to every 
corner of the building. This man might prove to be a dan¬ 
gerous enemy, but he must do his duty and see that he went 
back across the border. Finally he summed up courage 
enough to speak again but when he took a step towards 
Reaves, who had been watching closely while looking around 
at others, Reaves guessed his thoughts and took him by the 
arm and started to walk away, saying as he did so: 

“There is one other thing I want to call your attention to, 
Inspector.” After taking a few steps he stopped and turned 
to the officer as he said in a low tone of voice: 

“I stopped near the place we have just left for another 
reason.” 

“What was that ?” asked the inspector. 

“Well,” said Reaves in an even voice, “representations 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 215 


were made to your government some time ago from high 
authority about one of your croupiers. He has been carrying 
information for spies of our enemies, and the man at the 
table we have just left is the fellow. I caught him at it again 
while looking through the peepholes in the little room up¬ 
stairs. I stopped by his table so that I might get a look 
at him/’ 

“How do you know this to be a fact?” asked the inspector, 
looking at him in surprise. 

“I make it my business to know such things, Inspector, 
and this is a fact which you cannot deny,” retorted Reaves, 
as he fastened his cold eyes on him. He could not look at 
Reaves and did not reply, but started to walk towards an 
open window near by, which looked out over the Mediter¬ 
ranean. He stood still and gazed out at sea for a long time 
while he played with his watch chain with his fingers. Finally 
he turned to Reaves : 

“I wish I knew what is in your head,” he said. 

“Nobody but God and myself knows that,” said Reaves, 
as he turned to look out through the window. 

The inspector looked at him with cold hatred in his eyes. 

“Frankly, Mr. Reaves, you have me guessing. You speak 
and act as though the allied armies were at our gates, and 
you had been sent in here to tell us on what terms we could 
surrender.” 

“The enemies of Germany cannot permit this beautiful 
spot to be used as a breeding ground for plots which might 
mean the defeat of the Entente,” said Reaves, as he contin¬ 
ued to look at the battleship anchored out in the sea. 

“Answer me another question,” persisted the inspector, 
who had now become very serious. 

“Yes,” said the other. The inspector pointed out to sea 
and looked at him. 

“Has that anything to do with your visit here?” 

“You mean that camouflaged object resting on its anchor 
out there?” 

“Yes, that battleship.” 

Reaves turned around and looked at him a moment before 
he spoke. “Listen to me a moment, Inspector,” he said, 
putting his hand on his shoulder. “My time here is 
limited, and I have important work to do. Go back 


216 behind the scenes of destiny 


to your office and look up your records of May 19-7- 
and see if a man by the name of Reaves, an American citi¬ 
zen, didn’t do your government a favor about that time. You 
were not there at the time, but there is someone who can 
tell you about it, and if it is as I tell you, come back here 
in plain clothes and stand around and keep your eyes open. 
I recognize your position and you are within your rights in 
trying to preserve your neutrality, but I am going a bit 
further by ridding Monaco of the people who are the cause 
of your troubles. I promise not to create a disturbance here 
if I can possibly prevent it, but I must accomplish what I 
came here to do, else I would no longer hold my reputation 
as a man who accomplishes things.” 

The inspector looked at him in utter astonishment. 

“You don’t mean that you are the real Mr. Reaves—the 
mysterious person of whom I have”—he did not complete 
the question. Reaves took him by the hand and said: 

“Good-bye, Inspector.” 

He left the bewildered man gazing after him as he hur¬ 
ried across the room and disappeared through the door. 


XXVIII 


The villa in which the secret meetings were being held sat 
back some distance from the beach with its main entrance 
facing the sea. Reaves with one of his men had strolled 
along the coast by the place in the afternoon and returned by 
a street running back of the house, thus fixing thoroughly in 
his mind the lay of the ground, and all possible ways of 
escape in case he was cornered. Promptly at ten o’clock 
he walked up the steps into the porch and rang the doorbell. 
The door was opened by a big, gruff-looking man in a heavy 
braided uniform who spoke with a distinct German accent. 
Reaves did not wish to call the name of the man he wanted, 
and thereby arouse his suspicion, so he told the butler that 
he wished to speak to the Countess St. Cere. 

“May I ask the nature of your business?” inquired the 
man. 

“I cannot tell you that, but my business is urgent and I 
must go in and speak to her.” 

The man suspected something out of the usual and re¬ 
garded him silently for a moment. “I will inform the Coun¬ 
tess of your desire, sir,” said the man, as he started to close 
the door. 

Reaves had expected just such tactics, and before the man 
could close the door he lunged against it, pushing it open and 
throwing the man off his balance. As he recovered his hand 
went to his hip pocket, but again Reaves was too quick for 
him and the man went down unconscious from a blow on 
the head. 

That much had been accomplished, thought Reaves, with 
but little noise. The people seated around a table in the back 
parlor had not stirred, so they must not have heard. He 
stooped down and took a gun from the pocket of the man 
whom he had just knocked senseless and started into the 
front parlor which was empty but brilliantly lighted. As he 
stepped into the room all the lights in the house suddenly 
went out, and he was alone in utter darkness. 

217 


218 behind the scenes of destiny 


Killing was against Reaves’ code, and for a minute he 
felt himself trapped; but he could not go back or call to the 
man he had left outside, he must go on. For a moment he 
listened. There was not a sound to be heard anywhere. 
“What were the men doing whom he had sent around to the 
back of the house?” he asked himself. He tiptoed to the 
folding doors between the rooms and listened. He heard 
whispers but could make out nothing that was being said. 
Suddenly, as he stood there listening, a man leaped on him 
from behind and bore him to the floor. At the same time 
the folding doors were opened and the lights again flooded 
the room, other men caught hold of Reaves. They were 
scuffling about the room, first on the floor and then on their 
feet, when Reaves heard a noise in the rear of the house. 
The other men had broken in and were coming to his assist¬ 
ance. The men with whom he had been grappling quickly 
turned him loose, two of them were knocked senseless by the 
men who had come to his rescue. The tall man who resem¬ 
bled a Russian nobleman bolted for the door. 

“Catch him,” said Reaves, pointing his finger at him. 

There was no one between the man and the door to stop 
him but a shot rang out and the man sank to the floor with 
a bullet in his leg. Reaves had told his men that there must 
be no killing or other violence unless it was absolutely neces¬ 
sary. He went to the door where the man had fallen and 
just outside stood the police inspector. 

“I am glad you have come, Inspector,” said Reaves, who 
did not show any surprise at seeing him. “Step inside, 
please, I think there is something here that will interest you.” 

“What has taken place here?” asked the astonished in¬ 
spector, looking around at the various people who had now 
been rounded up in the front parlor. 

“This little group,” answered Reaves calmly, “were plan¬ 
ning the assassination of certain high officials of the Allied 
Government and I decided to break up their plans before 
they started to carry them out. Such conduct,” continued 
Reaves, with his eyes fixed on the inspector, “is a violation 
of the neutrality of the principality which you have said you 
would not permit.” 

“Who are they?” asked the official in a gruflf voice. 

“The little man here is the Austrian I spoke to you about 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 219 


down at the Casino,” said Reaves, as he pointed his finger at 
him. “He has been engaged in several schemes detrimental 
to our cause. The lady, whom you already know as the 
Countess St. Cere, is a well-known secret emissary of the 
Central Powers, and the gentleman, whom I regret very 
much has been wounded, is Captain Heine, one of the most 
trusted men of the German intelligence office. I shall have 
to take the three I have just pointed out to you back across 
the border with me. The others are not of great importance 
and so far as I am concerned may go where they please.” 

The inspector turned to Reaves sharply, 

“I shall see, sir, that the others are put across the border 
and if either of them are caught within the principality again 
they will be turned over to the proper authorities.” 

The villa was only a few hundred yards from the border, 
and Reaves turned to his men and told them to take the 
wounded man up and carry him to the car which was waiting 
for them just over the line. 

“Let me alone,” said Captain Heine, protesting angrily, as 
they started to lift him from the floor, “I am in a neutral 
country and you have no right to carry me across the border 
and make me a prisoner of war.” 

“I think sometimes,” said Reaves calmly, as he looked at 
the wounded man out of cold eyes, “that there is nothing 
right about war; but in this case I have the upper hand and 
I have another score to settle with you yet; but I do not care 
to make public property of private matters. Take him on,” 
he ordered, turning to his men again. 

The wounded man was taken up and hurried across the 
border to the waiting automobile with Reaves and the Coun¬ 
tess following close behind with the Austrian and another 
guard. They hurried to a camp close by where Captain 
Heine’s wound was treated, after which he and the Austrian 
were placed in prison under strong guard. Reaves continued 
on his journey with the Countess. As they sped on their 
way after leaving the camp, the Countess turned to Reaves 
after a long silence and asked: 

“What are you going to do with me?” 

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, then re¬ 
sumed his position of looking straight ahead, his face was 
set. 


220 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“What do you think should be done with a person who has 
been caught red-handed plotting against the countries whose 
cause I have the honor to represent ?” 

She looked at him for a long time without speaking. She 
was puzzled. She decided that while his face was not cruel 
he was a man who put duty before all else. 

“I am in your power,” she replied with a feeling of despair. 

“I am only an instrument in the hands of the Allies,” he 
commented, “but I beg of you not to be alarmed at your pre¬ 
sent situation.” 

She took on new hope at his last remark. 

“Tell me where you are taking me,” she demanded firmly, 
“I have a right to know.” 

He smiled at her but did not reply. She looked out 
through the window of the closed car. They were almost 
flying past trees and an occasional house. She was thinking 
what she must do. It was no time to lose courage. Finally 
she turned to him: 

“It seems so strange,” she said, “that we should meet again 
under such unpleasant circumstances. You were so nice to 
me in London, and in Paris. I thought you were an Amer¬ 
ican.” 

“So I am,” he said, with his eyes still fixed on the road 
straight before them. 

“Well, then, how is it that you are mixed up in the affairs 
of the Entente?” 

“That is my affair,” he snapped. 

She was silent for a moment, thinking hard. Names, 
places and incidents were quickly recalled—London—Miss 
Rotherford, Lady Helen—Lord Cullen. 

“You are a friend of Lord Cullen—aren’t you?” she asked, 
turning again to face him. 

“I am acquainted with Lord Cullen and his family,” was 
the curt reply. 

“Have you seen them recently?” 

“Yes, I left them two days ago to come down to Monte 
Carlo.” 

“Would you mind giving me Lord Cullen’s address, Mr. 
Reaves ?” 

“My dear lady,” he replied, as he turned to look at her, 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 221 


“you do not seem to realize that you are a prisoner of war, 
just as much so as if you were a soldier in uniform.” 

“Then I shall be imprisoned ?” she ventured. 

“Your case, Madam, is one which comes under the espion¬ 
age act. In plain words, I have enough evidence already ac¬ 
cumulated against you to prove that you are a dangerous 
enemy.” 

“But you would not deal with me as an ordinary spy, 
would you, Mr. Reaves?” 

“The Countess is far too clever to expect me to answer 
that question.” 

She was really frightened by his last remark and began to 
tremble as she took a handkerchief and wiped the tears from 
her eyes. 

“I am completely at your mercy,” she moaned, as she 
leaned back in the seat and put her hand up to her face. And 
after a moment’s silence, “I would never have thought you 
could be so cruel.” 

He looked at her sharply, “I regret,” he said, “that I am 
only a very small part of a great machine created by the 
Allies for the purpose of defending the liberties of nations 
against the tyranny of the Central Powers. Men in my posi¬ 
tion cannot let sentiment cause them to neglect their duty. 
This is war, but God knows I wish it wasn’t. I have often 
thought of that afternoon in London when I attended a tea 
at your apartment. I knew at that time that you were seek¬ 
ing information for the Central Powers and I felt a tender¬ 
ness towards you because you had been a friend of some of 
my friends there,” and turning his head from her, “I tried 
to find an excuse for your conduct but—” he hesitated a 
moment—“the more I investigated you the deeper I found 
you involved in plots against the Allies. Lady Helen and 
Miss Rotherford seemed to have perfect confidence in you.” 

“Have you told them anything about my—” she broke 
off and did not complete the question. 

“Yes,” he said solemnly, “I told Lady Helen that you were 
an enemy of England.” 

“You must let me communicate with Helen, I know she 
will help me. Won’t you let me do that, Mr. Reaves?” 

“That is impossible,” was the positive reply. 


222 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“Then what am I to do, you will not even allow me to 
defend myself?” 

“In that you are entirely mistaken; in fact, I shall take 
it upon myself to see that you are ably represented when the 
proper time comes.” 

“Then why not let me communicate with my friends?” 

“You shall have every opportunity to communicate with 
anyone who may be in a position to give evidence in your 
behalf.” 

“Well, then, let me communicate with Lady Helen or Lord 
Cullen.” 

“Surely the Countess does not hope for any assistance in 
this matter from any patriotic English man or woman?” 

She turned her face from him. At last the truth of her 
situation had dawned upon her. Her friends in England 
and France were no longer her friends. When they found 
out the truth about her double life, her plotting against their 
countries, they would become her bitter enemies. 

For a moment her brilliant career in social life passed be¬ 
fore her dimmed vision, then she realized that she was a 
prisoner in the enemy’s country without a friend to call 
upon. She would await developments and if she were con¬ 
victed—well, she would never be treated as an ordinary spy; 
no, there were other ways of leaving this world. Others 
had died bravely and why should she be less brave? It was 
for the dear Fatherland. With a mighty effort she pulled 
herself together and turned again to face her captor and, 
smiling through bitter tears, she said a bit sarcastically: 

“When I am shot as a spy, promise me that you will send 
my body back to Berlin, so that I may forever rest in peace 
within the boundaries of the greatest country the world has 
ever known.” 

“Jesting in your present situation is entirely out of place, 
Madam,” he said coldly. 

“I am resigned to my fate, Mr. Reaves, and might just 
as well make the best of it.” 

“You are indeed an alarmist. The evidence has not been 
presented in your case yet.” 

“Who are the witnesses?” she asked. “I certainly have a 
right to know that much.” 

“I am the chief one, Madam.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 223 

She leaned forward in her seat and gazed steadily at his 
profile while he continued to look straight ahead. Finally 
she said: 

“You are not the type of man to see a woman get the 
extreme penalty for such acts as I have committed.” 

He turned his head suddenly and his blue eyes flashed fire. 

“Then you do not believe I will do my duty?” he said. 

She looked past him out of the car window, her face was 
pale and serious. After a long siletice she replied softly: 

“Yes, after weighing all the circumstances in a case, you 
do your whole duty.” 

For a long time there was silence between them. Finally 
he said: 

“You are probably in possession of information which 
would be of great help to me, but I am not going to insist 
that you talk to me at all.” He watched her face very closely 
to see the effect of his statement. 

“What is the nature of this information you want?” she 
asked. “You cannot expect me to tell all I know about the 
secrets of the Fatherland.” 

“You have the privilege of refusing to answer any ques¬ 
tion, but it might be better for you if you would enlighten 
me on certain facts.” 

“What, for instance?” she queried, suddenly becoming 
alert. 

“When did Captain Heine arrive in Monte Carlo?” he 
asked, before she had time to think. 

“Only twt> days ago,” was the quick reply, “but I have 
been there three weeks and the Austrian gentleman about 
ten days, but the others—” she stopped. 

“Yes, I know they have been there longer, some of them 
spend most of their time there,” he put in; and after a pause 
“I must have a complete list of the names of all the people 
whom it was planned to do away with, also the names of the 
would-be assassins.” 

She turned her head and was lost in deep thought. “Prob¬ 
ably, after all,” he continued, “you had better not tell me. I 
already have a long list of narrfes, I merely wanted to com¬ 
pare my list with yours, and I shall get the full list later, 
anyway.” 

“What do you mean by my list of names ?” 


224 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“Why, my dear lady, you certainly must have lost your 
head during the little excitement at the villa. Have you for¬ 
gotten that you had the piece of paper in your hand with the 
list of names written on it when you stood up with the others 
in the front parlor? You only put it in your handbag when 
I told the inspector you would be taken across the border.” 

“How do you know it was a list of names?” 

“When I came over to speak to you I glanced down at it 
in your hand.” And turning to her suddenly with his eyes 
narrowed he continued, “And I happen to know that you 
are the person who was to see that the names reached the 
various people who were to do the dirty work.” 

She was cornered, all her courage seemed to have left her, 
and for a long time neither of them spoke. Reaves was 
waiting for her to speak and she was trying to think of some¬ 
thing to say. When she had regained her courage she said 
feebly: 

“You seem to think you know a great deal about me.” 

“It isn’t a question of what I think, but a question of being 
unable to prove many things which I know you have done 
since this war started, and even before.” 

“Would you really like to prove these terrible things you 
say I have done to be untrue, Mr. Reaves ?” 

“I must admit that I would rather deal with a man in 
such cases, and I am rather glad that your case will be de¬ 
cided by a court-martial.” 

“Then you are going to testify against me?” 

“You have given me lots of trouble, Countess, and I shall 
certainly see that you cause me no more so long as this war 
lasts. Your ultimate fate is out of my hands.” 

She regarded him long without moving. Finally she picked 
up her hand bag and handed it to him. 

“I have decided to put my fate in your hands,” she said, 
“and you will find in this little gold mesh bag, several things 
which may interest you.” 

He raised his hand and pushed it back gently, and as he 
did so he said, “A lady’s hand bag is sacred, personal prop¬ 
erty, you will please take out what you wish me to have and 
retain the bag.” 

She looked at him in astonishment. For a time she could 
not understand, then she thought, whatever other traits he 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 225 


might have, he at least respected her sex. She opened the 
little hand bag and took from it some papers which she 
handed to him. 

“Thank you,” he said, as he placed them in his pocket with¬ 
out looking at them. 

They traveled a considerable distance further without 
speaking, then the car came to a stop. A soldier stood near 
the car talking to the chauffeur. Reaves opened the door 
and stepped out and after a few words with the soldier he 
re-entered the car and took his seat. Looking ahead the 
Countess saw a high wall enclosing a large building silhou¬ 
etted against the dark skyline. A lone light was burning 
over the door to the main entrance, and an occasional light 
scattered about the large enclosure. 

“Is this where we stop?” she asked. 

“I shall have to leave you here for the present,” he said. 

As the car moved on she saw huge gates open to receive 
them and when they passed inside and she heard the gates 
shut her heart sank. In the darkness of the night the place 
reminded her of a mediaeval fortress. It looked desolate 
and forsaken, and instinct told her it was a prison. 

“Oh, my God,” she exclaimed, as she sank back in her 
seat with a feeling of utter despair. 

“Such is war,” said Reaves sadly. “You will be treated 
well here, and have the liberties of the grounds, I hope you 
will make the best of your situation.” 

The car stopped at the main entrance to the building and 
the chauffeur descended from his seat and opened the door. 
Reaves stepped out and told the Countess to remain in the 
car until he returned for her. The officer of the guard soon 
appeared and after a minute’s conversation Reaves returned 
to the Countess and took her inside. 

“I haven’t a friend in the world,” she said amid tears as 
they stood alone in the reception room waiting for the matron 
to come and take charge of the new prisoner. Reaves turned 
his back; notwithstanding the serious charges against the 
countess he could not stand her tears and was glad when the 
matron appeared and relieved the stress of the situation. 
The matron was an elderly lady with a pleasant face and she 
looked at them with a sleepy smile. 

“This is the Countess St. Cere,” said Reaves, as she came 


226 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


forward and spoke some words of consolation to the new¬ 
comer who was standing with her handkerchief up to her 
face. After a moment he added, “You will please show her 
every consideration your position will allow/’ 

“I certainly will,” replied the elderly lady, with a nod of 
the head and a smile. 


XXIX 


Reaves left the prison immediately and started back to the 
camp, where he had left Captain Heine and the Austrian. 
Now that the plot against the Allies was broken up and the 
plotters taken prisoners, the first part of his work was ac¬ 
complished ; but there was something else on his mind that 
did not interest allied officialdom, but was of serious im¬ 
portance to him. The message from Miss Beeman had said 
that Theresa was under suspicion and had been speeded 
away from Berlin to some place of safety by Captain Heine. 
“Well,” reflected Reaves, “Miss Beeman knows what she is 
talking about and she would not have said, ‘to some place of 
safety/ unless Theresa was safe. And hadn’t Theresa her¬ 
self told him that Heine had asked her to marry him a num¬ 
ber of times? A man does not mistreat the girl he loves.” 
He had never been satisfied about the little job Theresa 
helped him pull off in Captain Heine’s apartment. There had 
always been a feeling that he had either left something un¬ 
done, some telltale marks about the apartment on that 
memorable night when he, with Theresa’s assistance, had 
secured the valuable papers from the safe, or that Theresa 
had in some inadvertent way let suspicion fall upon herself. 
But she had readily consented to assist him, and why ? There 
was but one conclusion. She feared for his safety and was 
anxious for him to get out of the enemy’s country, where he 
was continually surrounded by grave dangers. Well, he 
would soon have an opportunity to interview this German 
intelligence officer, and find out among other things just 
where he had placed Theresa for safekeeping; and then— 
well, “I will see what can be done,” he said to himself. 

He arrived in camp just a little after sunrise and as he 
stepped from the car he saw long lines of soldiers with their 
mess kits, and the odor of coffee and food reminded him 
that he hadn’t had a square meal since he arrived on the 
Mediterranean coast, only an occasional sandwich and cup 
of coffee. He went immediately to the officers’ mess and 

227 


228 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


while discussing the fortunes of war with other diners he ate 
a bountiful breakfast. Feeling very much refreshed he lit 
his pipe and walked over to headquarters where, after making 
himself known, he asked to see Captain Heine, one of the 
prisoners he turned over to them the night before. 

The commanding officer shifted his position in his chair 
and eyed Reaves closely. 

“Is it important that you see him at once, Major?” he 
finally asked. 

“It certainly is,” countered Reaves,’looking at him coldly. 

“I am sorry, Major,” said the officer, looking at him sol¬ 
emnly, “but the surgeon says he is very ill. He had a severe 
hemorrhage from his wound last night.” 

Reaves sat up quickly and looked at him a full minute in 
silence, finally he said: 

“That fellow must not be allowed to die, he has important 
information. We must get him to talk.” 

“We tried that last night but he wouldn’t say a word.” 

“He’ll talk to me, I am sure of it,” said Reaves confidently, 
“and now, if you please, sir; I should like to speak to the 
surgeon.” 

“Certainly, Major,” and post haste an orderly was dis¬ 
patched with an order for the surgeon to report to headquar¬ 
ters immediately. Reaves walked the floor in his impatience 
while waiting for the surgeon to arrive. How would he ever 
find Theresa if Captain Heine should die? No doubt he had 
left her in care of someone with instructions to keep her 
there until he returned, and if he died without telling anyone 
where she was, there was no telling what might be her fate. 
The surgeon arrived promptly and Reaves could hardly wait 
for an introduction before he fixed his eyes on him and said: 

“You must save Captain Heine’s life. He has information 
of the greatest importance.” 

The surgeon regarded him silently a moment before speak¬ 
ing. 

“I suspected that he was a prisoner of some importance, 
and I am doing everything modern medical science can do to 
save him.” 

“What are his chances?” asked Reaves impatiently. 

“He is dangerously ill,” replied the surgeon shaking his 
head slowly. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 229 

Reaves was thoughtful for a moment; his face drawn 
and serious. Finally he turned to the surgeon. 

“Will you go with me to the hospital? I want to take 
a look at the patient.’ , 

“I shall be glad to,” replied the surgeon, and they were 
immediately on their way. When they arrived at the hospital 
they went at once to the prisoners’ ward. They were met 
by the special nurse who had been put in charge of the case. 

“He is still unconscious,” she said. 

“Did he say anything before he became unconscious?” 
asked Reaves. 

The nurse shook her head slowly then said, “No, but he has 
been uttering incoherent sentences since he became uncon¬ 
scious.” 

“Can you recall his words?” he asked eagerly. 

The nurse took a long breath and looked away sadly. 
“Poor man,” she said, “I cannot help feeling sorry for him, 
it must be his sweetheart or his wife, he continues to call 
‘Theresa! Theresa!’ ” 

Reaves’ head dropped on his chest and for a long time 
he stood perfectly still staring at the floor. For the moment 
sorrow gripped his whole being, that sorrow which comes to 
every man when he sees another helpless and suffering, and 
hears a voice from beyond calling back for someone they 
love. From that moment there was no doubt left in his mind 
about the genuineness of Captain Heine’s love for Theresa or 
his having done what he could to protect her when suspicion 
had fallen upon her in Berlin. The surgeon had walked over 
to the bedside and was examining the patient. Reaves sud¬ 
denly coming from his reverie went over and stood by watch¬ 
ing the surgeon make his examination. The patient lay 
perfectly still breathing rapidly, his face was drawn and very 
pale. Reaves had seen him several times before but never 
had occasion to study his features closely. He was im¬ 
pressed anew with the resemblance between the man and him¬ 
self. He was tall and athletic, high forehead and light hair. 
A short mustache adorned his upper lip; Reaves had the 
same. It would be easy he thought, if he only knew where 
to locate Theresa; but Captain Heine was unconscious and 
he was the only person who could tell him. The surgeon 
completed his examination and faced Reaves. 


230 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“How is he Doctor ?” 

“He is a very sick man,” replied the surgeon. “I can tell 
you nothing definite at the present time, but his chances for 
recovery are very slight.” 

“Oh! Doctor,” exclaimed Reaves with a bit of agony in his 
voice, “he must get well. He has certain information I can 
get from no other source, and I cannot believe fate will play 
me such a trick in this instance.” 

The surgeon did not know the nature of the information 
his patient possessed but naturally thought it related to mat¬ 
ters of the war. He looked at Reaves steadily for a moment 
and wanted to ask him questions but decided curiosity was 
not the better part of wisdom in this case, so he contented 
himself by saying, “I know his recovery is a matter of great 
importance and I assure you nothing will be left undone 
which might contribute to that end. Call again tonight and 
let us hope he will be better.” 

Reaves left the hospital feeling rather disgusted with him¬ 
self for the way things had gone against him. Why had he 
allowed Clicot, the man who shot him—to go with the raid¬ 
ing party, why hadn’t he sent the Countess to the prison by 
someone else and interviewed Captain Heine immediately, in¬ 
stead of taking her on that long journey himself? Surely 
Captain Heine would have been looked after better if he 
had taken charge of him himself. 

There was nothing further he could do so he made his 
way to Nice, which was only a short distance away, and 
secured a room in a hotel. The knowledge of Captain 
Heine’s serious illness and Theresa’s precarious situation 
filled him with intense anxiety, but there are times when 
a man becomes so exhausted that the world and what goes 
on in it, is forgotten. Mother Nature exerts herself and the 
human body must have rest. That time had arrived with 
Frederick Reaves and he was soon asleep. 

All through the day, and the night that followed he slept, 
as only those who have become completely exhausted can 
sleep. In the morning he awoke early, feeling very much 
refreshed and ready for any task which might come up. He 
had his breakfast early and started for camp, and the hos¬ 
pital to inquire about Captain Heine. When he arrived the 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 231 


surgeon was making his morning’s rounds and met him in the 
hall as he entered the hospital. 

“Good-morning Major,” said the surgeon, as Reaves ap¬ 
proached him. 

“How is our patient?” asked Reaves ignoring the greeting. 

The surgeon stopped in front of him and looked out of a 
window silently. 

“Is he living?” persisted Reaves, wondering what he 
meant. 

“Oh yes,” replied the surgeon with a puzzled look on his 
face, “but it is a peculiar case. The nurse told me this morn¬ 
ing that he spoke a few coherent words just before I 
arrived.” 

“What did he say?” quickly queried Reaves. 

“Something about not wanting to recover and that he 
would be shot as a spy.” 

“I see,” remarked Reaves thoughtfully. 

He did not care to talk to the surgeon freely but thought 
to himself that saving Captain Heine’s life was necessary 
to his plans, and he must be saved if it wasn’t too late. The 
evidence against him was chiefly what he alone knew. After 
a long pause he turned to the surgeon. 

“Do you really think that he would recover if he believed 
that he would not be shot as a spy ?” 

The surgeon was thoughtful a moment before replying. 

“I believe he would fight for his life and that is important 
in such cases.” 

“Then he must be told that he will not be shot,” said 
Reaves. 

The surgeon looked at him quickly. “But the man is un¬ 
conscious, and even if he were not, how could you assure him 
that he would not be shot under the circumstances ?” 

“Can you bring him back to consciousness with inhalation 
of oxygen?” quickly asked Reaves. “I have heard of such 
things being done.” 

“I might try, but have you the right to promise him any¬ 
thing, even if I should be successful ?” 

“A life for a life is an even trade,” said Reaves mysteri¬ 
ously, “and the information he can give will make a balance 
in his favor.” The surgeon looked puzzled but seemed to 
be convinced. 


232 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

“I believe, Major, that you have good and sufficient reason 
for what you say. Let’s go back and I will see what can be 
done.” 

They went back to the patient’s room and the doctor called 
for the oxygen inhaler. Reaves stood on one side of the bed 
while the doctor and nurse administered oxygen from the 
other. Soon the patient began to groan and move his limbs, 
then his eyes opened and there was a bewildered expression 
on his face. Finally his eyes rested on Reaves who was 
looking down at him with a sympathetic feeling. 

“Do you know me Captain Heine?” he asked. 

He felt that he was speaking to a man who had already 
passed into the world of shadows, but that his message would 
probably bring him back to this world of material things. 

At the sound of Reaves’ voice, recognition seemed to come 
to the man on the bed, his pale face clouded, and his eye¬ 
brows were contracted as he closed his eyes again. Reaves 
shook him gently and leaned over him fearing he had lost 
his opportunity. 

“Listen to me Captain Heine,” he said with a bit of agony 
in his voice, “I want you to listen to me. I am Frederick 
Reaves, the man who brought you here the night you were 
wounded. I am not going to let you be shot as a spy, and I 
want you to get well.” 

The man opened his eyes again and Reaves repeated, 
“You are not going to be shot, I can assure you of that, 
and you must get well.” The patient looked at him for a 
moment, the cloud disappeared from his face and it resumed 
its normal paleness. Reaves nodded to the surgeon, which 
indicated that he was through speaking, and the powerful 
stimulant which had brought life to the dead was taken 
away. The man lay perfectly still with his half-opened eyes 
fixed on Reaves for a moment, then the dropping lids slowly 
closed. Reaves stood for a long time gazing steadily at the 
unconscious form lying perfectly still on the narrow hospital 
bed. 

Life is a complex mixture of the unexpected with that 
which we plan. Reaves had laid his plans well. He was to 
find the people who were plotting against the Allies, discover 
and thwart their schemes, then capture the leaders. Miss 
Beeman’s code message from Berlin had only mentioned two 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 233 


names, Captain Heine and Theresa; and Monte Carlo as 
the place to find Captain Heine. His first duty was to the 
countries in whose cause he had enlisted. His plans had 
been carried out insofar as they were concerned. But 
Theresa, what might be her fate if she was not soon rescued ? 
She had helped him and the allied cause at great personal 
risk, and at a time when her assistance was of vital im¬ 
portance to the Allies and to him personally. He left the sick 
room and entered the reception room in another part of the 
hospital. It happened to be empty and he went over and 
stood by an open window facing the north. Somewhere back 
of those high mountains in the enemy’s country Theresa was 
being detained against her will. She was in great danger. 
What could he do to rescue her? Somehow he felt that she 
looked for him, and believed he would come and rescue her; 
but if Captain Heine should die, how would he ever find 
her? A peculiar calm seemed to come to him while standing 
there alone. Captain Heine will get well, he felt, and if he 
dies some guiding power will lead me to her. With a feeling 
that everything would come out right in the end he left the 
hospital and mingled with the officers about the camp. There 
was nothing to do but wait, and he might as well make the 
best of it. 

In the afternoon he stopped in at headquarters. He had 
been talking but a few minutes when the commanding officer 
pushed his chair back and cleared his throat. Reaves notic¬ 
ing his movements scented what was coming and looked at 
him sternly. 

‘‘Major,” he began slowly, “I have been thinking of what 
you said to our distinguished prisoner this morning. It 
seems to me that you are assuming a great deal in promising 
him his life when he is charged with plotting against the lives 
of our commanders in the field and our statesmen. You 
know the penalty for such acts, and this is war. You are 
certainly placing me in a very embarrassing position.” 

For a second Reaves’ eyes flashed fire, then a smile came 
over his face. It was no time to lose his head. They had his 
prisoner, he was desperately ill and must have the best of 
attention, therefore he must not offend the commanding 
officer. 

‘‘You are within your rights in protesting against my 


234 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


unusual conduct in this case,” Reaves finally replied, ‘‘but 
that man is of more use alive than dead. I cannot go into 
details just yet, but my conduct was justifiable in view of the 
extraordinary circumstances which exist in this case.” 

“I am afraid your sympathies and sentiment have played 
a part in the case,” remarked the officer. 

“I do sympathize with the man and I am not entirely 
devoid of sentiment,” replied Reaves. 

“I shall have to report the matter through military chan¬ 
nels,” said the officer. 

Reaves laughed as he replied, “From my experience with 
that means of communication I would say the distinguished 
prisoner will either be dead, buried and forgotten about, or 
the war will be over before you get a reply. I would suggest 
that you report to general headquarters, giving details about 
the case,” and looking sternly he added, “you must remember, 
sir, that I violated the neutrality of the Principality of 
Monaco, when I pulled off that little stunt and brought 
three prisoners back, all of whom have done great damage 
to the cause for which we both are fighting.” 

“Yes, that is true, but we have them now and they are 
dangerous enemies and we cannot be lenient with such people. 
You should have left the Countess here in my charge, Major. 
From what I have heard I think she ought to get the extreme 
penalty for giving information to the enemy.” 

“No doubt,” said Reaves calmly, “that she has given the 
enemy a great deal of important information concerning the 
movement of allied troops and many state secrets, certainly 
more than you have any idea, but I am an American, and 
Americans do not believe in the firing squad for women. 
I took her to the prison for women war prisoners, because 
I believe that is the place for her and there she is going to 
stay for the period of the war.” 

“But you have no say in such cases, Major. Her case 
must be decided by a military court.” 

“Usually I have no say in such cases, but in this case I 
have the evidence,” replied Reaves sternly, “and I will 
destroy the documents and resign from the service before I 
will present it before a court-martial.” 

He had become a little irritated at the commanding officer, 
but did not intend to enlighten him further concerning his 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 235 


reason for the decided stand he had taken in favor of the 
prisoners. 

There was a long silence before either spoke. Finally the 
commanding officer said with an air of mystery: 

“You Americans are a hard race to understand.” 

There was nothing to be gained by continuing the conver¬ 
sation, so Reaves arose from his seat and as he started out he 
said, “Europeans generally think Americans are difficult to 
understand, but we have made great progress as a nation on 
the policy of always dealing justly with people even though 
they may be enemies.” 


XXX 


For the next three days Reaves called at the hospital every 
morning and was told each time that the patient was still 
unconscious and on the third day he again went to see the 
commanding officer. As he entered the private office the 
officer arose from his seat and extended his hand to Reaves. 

“I want to apologize for my unseemly attitude at our last 
interview,” said the official, “and I hope you understand that 
I was only doing what seemed to be my duty.” 

He turned to his desk and picked up a telegram which he 
handed Reaves. “This came yesterday, but I could not find 
you.” He had taken Reaves’ suggestion and telegraphed a 
report to headquarters and the telegram he handed Reaves 
was a reply to that message. It stated that the department 
was very fortunate in securing the services of Major Reaves 
and his valuable work had already attracted the attention of 
many high officials. He was to be given a free hand in the 
conduct of his work and shown every courtesy by the com¬ 
mander. 

“Now that we can understand each other better,” said 
Reaves, as he handed the message back to the officer, “let 
us get down to business,” and turning to him he continued, 
“I would like you to call the surgeon for a little consulta¬ 
tion.” 

“Certainly,” said the officer, and in a short time the surgeon 
joined them in the private office. Reaves opened the con¬ 
versation. 

“I am going to depart from my usual course of secrecy 
on my movements and tell you two gentlemen that I am going 
to start back into the enemy’s country within the next two 
or three days.” 

“You are going back into the enemy’s country,” exclaimed 
the astonished officer. 

Reaves nodded his head, and turning to the surgeon he 
said, “I realize that in a case of critical illness, it is im¬ 
possible to tell the ultimate outcome, doctor, but I asked that 

236 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 237 

you be sent for, because my immediate course of action de¬ 
pends on what you think the condition of the patient is at the 
present time, and what we can hope for within the next few 
days.” 

Under the steady gaze of Reaves’ penetrating eyes the 
surgeon moved uneasily in his chair. The commanding 
officer, noticing his uneasiness, remarked, “We have been re¬ 
quested from headquarters to show the major every courtesy, 
and I hope you can give him something definite.” 

The officer’s remarks reassured the surgeon, who had be¬ 
fore looked upon Reaves with an air of mystery. He took 
his time before answering. Reaves’ blank statement that he 
was going back into the enemy’s country and the request 
from headquarters convinced him that the cool unassuming 
man before him was a person of importance, and that he was 
acting in accordance with well-laid plans. He turned to 
Reaves and said slowly: 

'‘From the condition of the patient this morning I do not 
believe he can recover.” 

Reaves looked at him long without speaking. He had ex¬ 
pected that would be the answer, but had been hopeful in 
spite of conditions. Finally he said. 

“I shall accept your statement without further question on 
that point, but I hope you may have occasion to change your 
opinion.” He turned to the commanding officer. “Now, I 
have a request to make of you. Enemies surround us every¬ 
where, the very earth and air about us, it seems, carry mes¬ 
sages. Spies are right in this camp, but we must outwit them 
someway. When I leave here I want our prisoner to be 
moved secretly to a hiding place and it must be done coinci¬ 
dent with my departure. If he dies, it will be of service to 
me, if the impression prevails about camp that he lives and 
has escaped back across the border or has been exchanged 
in accordance with the international law governing the ex¬ 
change of prisoners. Now do I make myself plain?” he 
asked, looking at the officer. 

“I think I am beginning to see through your plan,” said 
the officer as he drummed his fingers on the desk, but he 
added, “you are taking great personal risk, Major, in going 
into the enemy’s country.” 

“So are the boys who go over the top,” answered Reaves, 


238 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

“and we must do the task for which we are best suited.” 
And turning again to the surgeon he said, “I am sure you will 
keep constantly before you the fact that this man is worth a 
great deal to me alive, but if he dies many important secrets 
will be forever lost. And now,” he added, as he arose from 
his seat, “I would like to see the effects taken from Captain 
Heine when he arrived in camp.” 

The surgeon walked with Reaves to the hospital and while 
Reaves examined the wounded prisoner’s effects, he went in 
to see the patient again and after examining him carefully 
he returned to where Reaves was examining a lot of papers 
and trinkets spread out on a table before him. 

“I presume there is no change in the patient’s condition,” 
remarked Reaves, casually looking up as the suregon entered 
the room. 

“He is slowly dying,” replied the surgeon seriously. 

“And there is nothing that can be done to save him?” asked 
Reaves, feeling that his only chance to rescue Theresa would 
be lost if Captain Heine died. 

The surgeon took a seat and lit a cigarette, and after a long 
silence he said, “It is a case of having lost so much blood that 
he has none left to sustain him. I am keeping him alive now 
with stimulants.” 

Reaves had completed the task of going through Captain 
Heine’s effects and had put a batch of papers and a few 
other things in his pocket and was collecting those he did not 
want, to be put away again for safe keeping. At the surgeon’s 
last remark he stopped suddenly, and for a moment he ap¬ 
peared to be staring at the table in front of him. Then he 
slowly turned his head and his eyes met those of the surgeon. 

“I was just thinking,” remarked the surgeon as he turned 
his head and his eyes met those of Reaves, “that, as a last 
resort, I might try transfusion of blood, if I could find a 
healthy subject who is willing to give us some of his blood.” 

Reaves’ face lighted up and a smile replaced his stern 
expression. A ray of hope had gleamed upon the dark 
horizon of his future. He turned quickly to the surgeon. 

“And you really think that might save him?” he asked. 

“It is the only chance he has, but I don’t know where to 
get a subject,” replied the doctor. 

“What about the German prisoners?” asked Reaves. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 239 

“We have no right to force them to give up their blood,” 
replied the surgeon. 

“You don’t know those devils; come with me up to the 
camp and pick out a suitable subject. I will do the rest.” 

“I will be glad to,” said the surgeon. 

Reaves picked up the bundle containing Captain Heine’s 
effects and gave them to an orderly to be returned to the 
safety room and both men hurried out of the hospital. The 
prison camp was only about a quarter of a mile from the 
hospital. It was noon when they arrived and the prisoners 
were piling into the mess hall as they approached. Reaves 
spoke to the officer in charge, telling him his business, then 
he went into the mess hall followed by the surgeon. He 
spoke to them in German, and after calling them to attention 
he told them that an officer of the German army was dying 
in the hospital from loss of blood and asked if there was a 
man present who was willing to give some of his blood to 
save the life of a fellow countryman. Every man in the 
hall held up his hand. Reaves looked around at the surgeon 
with a smile. 

“It is as I told you. They will give up their lives for the 
Fatherland or for their fellow countrymen. Just such senti¬ 
ments are what make them great soldiers. Now pick out 
your man and we will hurry back before it is too late.” 

They were soon back at the hospital with a strong, healthy, 
German prisoner. The desperately ill patient and the man 
from the camp were both taken immediately to the operating 
room where the transfusion was soon made while Reaves 
stood by and looked on. As the blood from the healthy 
man was poured into the veins of the desperately ill one, 
Reaves felt that he was witnessing a peculiar mingling of 
life and death. At the completion of the operation he left 
the hospital and returned to his hotel to await the result of 
the surgeon’s last effort to save the patient’s life and decided 
to wait a few days. He did not return the next day but 
completed his arrangements to depart on his dangerous mis¬ 
sion into the enemy’s country; and when he went to the 
hospital on the second day after the transfusion was made 
the surgeon met him with a smile. 

“The transfusion did the trick,” he said, “and the patient 
is sitting up and able to limp about a little.” 


240 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

“Thank God, he is better,” said Reaves, and then looking 
at the surgeon, 

“Is he strong enough for me to interview him?” 

“I think so, wait here a minute, let me go back and speak 
to him.” 

In a few minutes he returned. “I told him that you were 
here and wished to talk to him, and instead of being a shock 
to him he seemed rather pleased and said he felt strong and 
would like an interview with you.” 

“That’s fine,” said Reaves joyously. He walked back to 
Captain Heine’s room and as he opened the door and looked 
in, the German looked up from his reclining chair. 

“Come in Major Reaves,” he said in a weak voice. 

“Glad to see you feeling so much better,” said Reaves 
genially as he came into the room. 

“An unusual attitude for an enemy,” commented the 
German. 

“Oh, you’ll find I am not such a bad enemy,” said Reaves. 

“Well, Major, you gave me a great chase in Berlin, but it 
seems that you caught me with perfect ease, though I am still 
wondering how you got out of Berlin.” i 

A faint smile overspread Reaves’ face as he took a seat by 
his prisoner. 

“You have been very ill Captain Heine.” 

The man looked away, his pale face was troubled. 

“Yes,” he said slowly, “but they have been very attentive 
to me here, otherwise I should not have recovered,” and 
turning his face to Reaves, “the nurse tells me you have been 
very anxious about me; since I have been conscious I have 
often wondered just why.” 

“I did not intend that you should be wounded in the first 
place, but one of my men was a little hasty.” 

“I don’t know about that,” said the German with a little 
fire in his eyes. “I was preparing to make my getaway. I 
was well armed and if I had not been wounded, I most 
certainly would have made a desperate attempt; but after 
being shot I could not walk, so I knew that escape was im¬ 
possible.” 

Reaves sat perfectly calm and made no comment, the pris¬ 
oner was talking and he wanted to see how much he really 
would tell him. After a moment’s silence he continued, 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 241 


“Just before I left Berlin I received a long report about you, 
giving information collected in the United States, England 
and several other places. I must give you credit for using a 
great deal of skill and tact in getting information about 
what was going on in the Fatherland.” 

“I assure you that you also deserve to be commended for 
your efficient service to your country along the same line. 
While I w*as in Berlin the last time you kept my wits working 
overtime to steer clear of the traps you set to catch me.” 

A faint smile crept over the German’s face at the compli¬ 
ment Reaves paid him, but it soon passed away and he looked 
at his captor again as he started to speak. 

“It seems rather strange under the prevailing circum¬ 
stances, the seriousness of which I fully appreciate, for you 
and me to be carrying on what I might say is almost a 
pleasant conversation. We might just as well begin to dis¬ 
cuss the matters which prompted you to request this inter¬ 
view. I feel that I already know what will be my fate. I 
have been caught as you Americans say, with the goods on 
me, and I expect no mercy.” 

Reaves turned his head quickly and looked at him. Was 
it possible that he did not recollect having been assured that 
he would not be shot as a spy ? 

“What do you think will be your fate?” he asked. 

“Well,” said the German sadly as he looked out through 
the window in the direction of his Fatherland, “your military 
law is specific in the matter of punishment for military 
spies. I suppose you class me as much and you cannot 
afford to be lenient with an agent of the Imperial Secret 
Service.” 

Reaves was not convinced that he did not remember. 

“Your courage in the face of the circumstances is indeed 
worthy of a brave soldier of the Fatherland,” Reaves told 
him, “but things are never as bad as they seem, Captain 
Heine.” 

“It is nice of you to try to cheer me up, but I know after 
you find out what you can from me it is a court-martial, 
a blank wall and the firing squad.” 

There was a long silence during which the man in the 
reclining chair closed his eyes. After a while he opened 
them again; his thoughts seemed to be searching the past. 


242 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

Finally he looked over at the little hospital bed and said, 
“While I was lying over there and could not speak, I had a 
dream, which I think had something to do with my recovery. 
I can see the whole thing plainly now.” 

Reaves immediately became alert, but kept silent and 
allowed the sick man to continue. “I thought the doctor and 
nurse were on one side of the bed and you were on the 
other. You seemed to be leaning over me and saying to me, 
‘you are not going to be shot as a spy. I want you to get 
well.’ There was an axious look on your face and once you 
seemed to smile at me; but alas,” he sighed, “when I became 
conscious I realized it was only a delirious dream.” 

Reaves rose from his seat and took a few steps about the 
room. Sympathy filled his heart for this brave enemy, whose 
life had just been snatched back from eternity by almost a 
miracle, but sympathy must not interfere with his duty to 
the allied cause; and there was Theresa, but Captain Heine 
had not given a single hint as to her. His prisoner did not 
remember his speaking to him from the depths of oblivion 
but thought it was only a dream, and he was pondering in 
his mind whether the serious times or the necessity of getting 
certain information were sufficient excuse for him to let the 
sick man think it was only a dream, and use his desperate 
frame of mind as a means of getting the information he 
wanted. He took his seat again close by the reclining chair. 

“Captain Heine,” he said, looking at him seriously, “you 
know that in a case of an important prisoner like yourself 
we expect certain information, it is but natural; if you were 
in my position you would expect the same thing.” 

“I certainly would try to make a prisoner talk under such 
circumstances; but in my case, I shall maintain silence as a 
soldier of the Fatherland should, but,”—he hesitated— 
“before you deal with me there is a request I want to make 
of you.” 

“What is the nature of your request?” asked Reaves. 

The prisoner closed his eyes again for a moment’s rest so 
that he might have strength enough to continue the inter¬ 
view. Finally he opened them and moved to a more com¬ 
fortable position in his chair and replied: 

“Some years ago I met an American girl while she was 
visiting relatives in Berlin; her father was born in Germany. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 243 

I fell in love with her, but I was not in a position to get 
married at that time. After several months she returned to 
America and became engaged to an American. They had 
some differences and she returned to Germany a year and a 
half ago, and has been studying art. Naturally I went to 
see her again, and I have seen a great deal of her for several 
months past. Through some imprudent remark, suspicion 
was cast upon her and the department wanted to arrest her 
as a suspicious alien; but about that time I was ordered to 
undertake this little mission you broke up at Monte Carlo; 
so I brought her with me as far as the Austrian border and 
placed her in care of some friends who have a chateau near 
Rheineck which is on the Austrian side not very far from 
Lake Constance.’ , 

Reaves’ heart leaped as Heine began to relate his story, but 
he did not want to give himself away, it being evident that 
the German had not yet found out that he was the man who 
had figured in Theresa’s life. The sick man had again 
stopped and lay back in his chair with his eyes closed. Reaves 
watched him in silence and when he opened his eyes again he 
asked calmly: 

“What is it you wish me to do?” 

“She will be in great danger if she stays there much 
longer,” continued the sick man, “and I want you to see that 
she gets back to her home in America.” 

“I will take it upon myself personally to see that your 
request is complied with,” answered Reaves, “and now tell 
me how long it will be safe to leave her there.” 

“I am afraid not very much longer.” 

Reaves was frightened at the reply to his last question. 
It might be too late now to rescue Theresa, he thought. He 
looked away, his face was serious, there were other matters 
he wanted to discuss with Captain Heine but he had gotten 
considerable information from searching through his effects, 
and he would hardly know very much about any of the 
enemies’ future plans. For the moment Theresa occupied his 
whole interest, so he decided not to question Captain Heine 
further about secrets of the German war office. He turned 
to the prisoner again: 

“I am going to leave here this afternoon and make my way 
into your country; on my way I shall try to rescue the 


244 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

American girl/’ The prisoner looked at him sternly but did 
not speak and Reaves continued in an even tone of voice, 
“I am going as Captain Heine, dressed up in full regalia with 
your uniform, papers, identification card and everything; 
and before leaving I want to tell you that if nothing happens 
to me on this trip nothing will happen to you in my absence, 
nor after my return except you will be a prisoner of war 
until this blooming war is over.” 

It was a long time before Captain Heine spoke. He looked 
Reaves over from head to foot then looked away with a dis¬ 
tinct air of mystery. Finally he looked back and fixing his 
eyes upon him he said, “I understand, and now since looking 
you over I believe you can pass off as Captain Heine, of the 
German Secret Service most anywhere, and I am perfectly 
willing for you to do that to save the girl. Now if you will 
get me some paper I will write out a few details so you can 
find the place.” 

Reaves quickly secured some paper and handed it to the 
prisoner along with his fountain pen, and while he was writ¬ 
ing down the necessary data Reaves left the room and went 
to make his final arrangements for the trip to rescue Theresa. 
When he returned, Captain Heine handed him two sheets of 
paper, on one of which was written the necessary data con¬ 
cerning Theresa’s hiding place, the other contained the 
following: 

To any German officer: If the bearer of this letter 
should fall into the hands of any of my countrymen do 
not execute him. He captured me while I was on an 
important mission to Monte Carlo for the Fatherland, 
and our enemies now hold me as a hostage to guarantee 
the safety of this man. I am safe from summary execu¬ 
tion so long as he is not harmed. 

Signed: Capt. Ludwig Heine 

Imperial Intelligence Office 

Hdqs., Berlin 

After Reaves had finished reading, he stood looking at his 
prisoner, utterly surprised at his friendly attitude. 

“I know you are puzzled,” said the German, “but you were 
generous to me, and as you have been so kind as to under- 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 245 

take the very dangerous mission of rescuing the girl I love, 
I will show the same generosity toward you.” 

“As a matter of fact, Captain Heine,” said Reaves, “you 
will never face a firing squad anyway; your dream was not 
a dream and it is true that I did come to your bedside and 
say to you, that you would not be shot as a spy, but your 
letter I feel will save my life if I should be caught.” 

The German looked at Reaves strangely. 

“Do you really mean that I will only be kept here as a 
prisoner of war and not be dealt with as a spy?” 

“Yes,” replied Reaves, looking away. “There are many 
things I admire about a brave man. If we had met under 
different circumstances we might have been friends.” 

The German extended his hand and there was a mist about 
his weak eyes. Reaves took the extended hand and held it 
as he said, “I shall do everything in my power to rescue 
Theresa Busch, and now I must be going, some day we may 
meet again.” 

He left the room immediately and for a long time the 
German gazed at the door through which this strange enemy 
had passed. With all the hatred and jealously between 
nations and people of Europe he could not understand such 
generous treatment from the man who had captured him; 
but anyway he said to himself, I believe he will rescue 
Theresa and that is what counts. 


XXXI 


On leaving the villa after the raid in Monaco, Reaves had 
left some of his men behind with instructions to make a 
thorough search of the house and bring away everything 
found which might enlighten him on the extent of the 
enemy’s plots or be useful for other purposes. Among the 
effects found was a box containing Captain Heine’s uniform 
complete, and some valuable documents; one of which men¬ 
tioned the dates on which a German submarine would be 
off the coast of Monaco on the lookout for him. He had 
smiled to himself when he deciphered the code containing 
that bit of information. He had beforehand expressed his 
opinion to a naval officer whom he met on his arrival in Nice, 
and that officer had posted the ship in the Mediterranean 
which the inspector of police had seen through the window 
of the Casino while talking to Reaves. The warship had 
since been withdrawn and the German submarine had prob¬ 
ably given up its nightly watch for Captain Heine and re¬ 
ported that he had been captured or lost. 

After leaving Captain Heine at the hospital, Reaves hur¬ 
ried to his hotel in Nice and dressed in the uniform of major 
in the British air service; then he waited anxiously for dark 
to come. He did not wish to be seen about the streets or 
hotel so he ordered an early dinner sent to his room. From 
a window he could see the blue waters of the Mediterranean 
and watch the silvery waves breaking against the pebbled 
beach. The bright rays from the afternoon sun soon dis¬ 
appeared and twilight came. A little while longer and he 
would be on his way to rescue Theresa. When he arrived in 
Nice he had expected to have accomplished that task long 
ago, but his plans had been upset by the desperate illness of 
Captain Heine. He always planned a course of action before 
undertaking difficult or dangerous tasks. He also figured on 
emergencies, but there had been one way to anticipate the 
delay in this instance and to him personally this was the most 
important task he had ever undertaken. While he must 

246 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 247 


gather all the information he could for the Allies, he must 
not fail to rescue Theresa. Before he realized it darkness 
had spread its ever mysterious shadows about him. He 
quickly looked at his watch; it was five minutes to the time 
he had ordered the car to be ready. 

He hurriedly called the porter to take his baggage, and a 
few minutes later he left the hotel by the back way. As he 
approached the big closed car, a man in the uniform of an 
Italian soldier saluted and opened the door. Reaves returned 
the salute and stepped inside. The porter put his baggage in 
and closed the door as the soldier took his seat at the wheel. 
There was a noise of gears being shifted and they were on 
their way. They soon reached the city limits, and as they left 
the street lights the car shot into the darkness like a train 
into a dark tunnel. In a short time they had arrived at the 
Italian border near Mentone, and Reaves stepped out and 
showed his identification papers. The guard glanced at them 
and handed them back to him, then came to attention as he 
saluted and said, “Pass on, sir.” 

They took the scenic route via Alexandria and Milan. 
Many times they were thousands of feet above sea level 
surrounded by the most gorgeous scenery to be found in the 
Italian Alps, but darkness excluded from the eye what 
Reaves with his artistic nature would probably have only 
glanced at anyway, so intent was he on reaching Theresa 
before it was too late. In spite of the sharp curves and 
blackness of the night the car maintained a terrific speed 
on the firm roads for which this section of Italy is noted. 
They passed Alexandria shortly before midnight and after 
making a few inquiries about the roads they continued on 
over the plains of Lombardy to Milan. It had been Reaves’ 
intention to turn to the left at this point and keep close to 
the Swiss border, so as to avoid roads which might be 
crowded with troops moving up to the front. On inquiry at 
Milan he was told that all the mountain passes were crowded 
with troops hurrying to the front to meet the Austrian attack 
which had been launched a few days before. For a time he 
did not know which way to turn; but he was not to be dis¬ 
couraged whatever obstacles he might meet. After a few 
minutes’ thought he went to see the Italian officer command¬ 
ing troops in that area. He soon convinced that official that 


248 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


he was on an important mission and that he intended to cross 
the border into Austria some way. The officer spread a map 
on a table before them, and together they began to study the 
most likely route to make a hurried trip to the border. The 
map was stuck full of holes and marked with the names of 
commanders in charge of various sections of the front. The 
officer ran his pointer along the portion of the map covering 
the front line, then looking up at Reaves said: 

“Don’t see how you can possibly get through the front 
line, Major.” 

“I will get through somehow if I can get there,” replied 
Reaves firmly. 

“I can at least put you through to Prince Polini’s head¬ 
quarters, which are only a few miles back of the front line,” 
the officer finally told him. 

“Prince Polini, did you say?” asked Reaves, doubting his 
ears. 

“Yes, he is here with his command,” replied the officer, 
placing his pointer down on the map, and looking up at 
Reaves. 

“Do you know him?” he asked. 

“Yes, I met him in London,” replied Reaves, “and I think 
it would be of great assistance to me if you will make me 
your official messenger from here to the prince’s head¬ 
quarters.” 

Reaves’ idea was not to be held up if possible, and official 
messengers have the right of way. The officer looked at him 
a minute thoughtfully then said: 

“I understand and I shall be glad to help you on your 
way.” 

Owing to the congestion of the narrow mountain roads 
the heavy closed car was abandoned and a light army car 
and a chauffeur who was more familiar with the roads was 
substituted, and Reaves was soon on his way again. After 
many petty delays in passing long lines of troops and trans¬ 
ports he arrived at the prince’s headquarters, where after 
showing his paper marked official he was immediately ad¬ 
mitted to the presence of the prince. After exchanging 
salutes there was a long silence while the two men looked at 
each other. Finally the prince recognized him and arose 
from his seat and extended his hand. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 249 


“I am glad to see you, Major Reaves/’ he said, with great 
surprise, “and how are Lady Helen and my friend Lord 
Cullen?” 

“I have not seen or heard from them since I left you with 
them in northern France, sir,” replied Reaves. 

“What on earth brings you to Italy at this time?” asked 
the prince. 

“I must pass through the lines tonight,” was Reaves’ quick 
reply, “my business is most urgent, and I thought you might 
be able to assist me in getting to the front line.” 

“May I ask if this dangerous mission has anything to do 
with the offensive the enemy has just started?” 

“I can’t say it has, sir, but I assure you it is most im¬ 
portant.” 

The prince was thoughtful a moment, then replied, “I 
shall not question you further about your business, Major, 
and I will be glad to do anything I can to assist you; a man 
of your reputation, and wearing the uniform that you are 
wearing, commands my immediate attention and respect; 
but I hardly know how I am to assist you.” And eyeing 
Reaves closely, “you have probably been in a similar posi¬ 
tion before, have you any suggestion to make as to how I 
might be of some assistance to you?” 

For reply Reaves asked, “Have you an aviation camp near 
here, sir?” 

“Yes,” answered the other, “and an aeroplane might be 
the best way to get you over. Would you want a pilot?” 

“Probably I could fly the plane myself if I can get one, 
but in this instance I would much prefer an experienced 
pilot, and I think, sir, I would stand a better chance of 
getting across the battleline if I have a captured enemy 
plane.” 

“I see; you want to be put down behind the enemy’s lines 
I suppose.” 

“Well, such things are done you know,” replied Reaves. 

“Would you want to be picked up again at a certain time 
and place?” 

“I don’t know just what my movements will be after I get 
through the line,” said Reaves, “but a trusty pilot would in¬ 
crease my chances of accomplishing the important mission 
I have undertaken on the other side.” 


250 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


Without further discussion the prince sent a messenger 
to the aviation camp which was only a short distance away. 
Reaves took a seat and lighted his pipe and the prince 
turning to him remarked, “I had an opportunity to talk to 
you but a few minutes when we met in France, but many 
things have taken place since we met in London, Major.” 

“Yes,” replied Reaves casually, “things have moved on 
rapidly. The English were very much elated when your 
country entered the war. At the time I saw you in London 
they were not sure that you would.” 

“I was not sure myself at that time,” said the prince. “I 
was in Paris when we declared war, but I hurried back to 
Italy as soon as I heard the news.” 

“I enlisted in the British army myself soon after I last saw 
you in London at the countess’ tea party,” said Reaves. 
“After that secret conference in Switzerland I was convinced 
that Italy would join the Allies, and now I think my country 
will declare war shortly and then I shall get a transfer to the 
American army.” 

“Were you the man who reported the secret conference in 
Switzerland?” asked the prince. 

“I was there,” replied Reaves evasively. 

The prince looked at him intently without speaking and 
Reaves felt that he wanted to ask him about the countess, 
but something caused him to hesitate. He hardly knew how 
to make her the subject of their conversation, but decided to 
try a lead. 

“Have you kept in touch with the Countess St. Cere since 
she returned to the continent ?” 

“In a way I have,” replied the prince slowly, “and by the 
way Lady Helen and Lord Cullen were speaking of her. 
They are friends, I believe,” continued the prince, and after 
a moment’s thought he remarked : 

“Lady Helen was at one time a very close friend of the 
Countess St. Cere, was she not?” 

“Yes,” replied Reaves, shifting in his chair, “they were 
close friends at one time.” 

“I have recently heard some unpleasant things about the 
countess,” added the prince looking away, “and I have often 
wondered if they were true.” 

Reaves moved his pipe in his mouth and looked at him. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 251 


“I am afraid what your highness has heard is only a part 
of the truth.” 

The prince looked up quickly and their eyes met. 

“Do you mean she has really been carrying information 
to our enemies?” 

“She certainly has, sir,” the other replied positively. 

The prince looked away in silence, his face was drawn. 
Reaves knew that he thought of the countess as something 
more than a friend, and he wanted to speak a comforting 
word to him, but there was nothing he could say; so he 
smoked on in silence until the prince turned to him again and 
asked: 

“Have you heard anything about the countess recently, 
Major?” 

“I have been keeping an eye on her movements along with 
some others ever since she left London. While I was in 
France (the time I saw you there), I learned that she was 
in Monte Carlo with an officer of the German Secret Service. 
Through your kindness in offering me your aeroplane and 
pilot, I arrived there the next morning. I soon located the 
villa in which they were holding their secret meetings. The 
officer went about the municipality as though he was merely 
a visitor, but always in the disguise of a Russian nobleman 
and often accompanied by the countess and an Austrian 
gentleman, who was also mixed up in their schemes. It was 
their daily habit to visit the Casino, so after gathering con¬ 
siderable information about their movements, I went to the 
Casino and stationed myself where I could keep an eye on 
the main entrance. After spending some time there I saw 
the German officer, the Austrian gentleman and the countess 
come up the steps and enter one of the main rooms. I was 
in disguise, so I spent some time watching their movements 
about the Casino. When I found out what they were up to 
I decided that I would spoil their little game and at the same 
time get some valuable information for ourselves, so at ten 
o’clock that night I took several men and went to the villa 
and arrested the German agent, the Austrian and the count¬ 
ess.” 

The prince had listened attentively to what Reaves had 
said, and now he turned his head and sat silently gazing in 
another direction. Finally he rose from his seat and went 


252 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

over and stood by the window. Reaves smoked his pipe in 
silence for some time, then went over and stood beside him 
apparently interested in something outside the window. 
They had been standing there without speaking for some 
time when the prince remarked casually: 

“I hope the countess will not be dealt with harshly, Major.” 

“We Americans do not believe in the extreme penalty for 
women,” replied Reaves. 

“But you haven’t the say in such cases,” put in the prince. 

There was a dry smile on Reaves’ face as he said, “But 
I have the evidence in this case.” 

“I see,” said the prince and after a moment he said, “do 
you mind telling me where you left the countess?” 

“Certainly not, I left her in a prison for women prisoners 
of war. I am going to try and have her kept there without 
having a trial for the period of the war, and then I shall 
request that she be given her freedom.” 

“That is very generous of you, Major,” said the prince, 
“and I want to thank you for your consideration. You see I 
have known her for a long time; and the count was as loyal 
a Frenchman as ever lived.” 

A messenger entered from the aerodome and informed the 
prince that the aeroplane was ready for a flight. They 
walked across the field to where a young officer was stand¬ 
ing by a captured German plane. As they stopped beside 
the plane the young officer came to attention and saluted. 
Reaves looked at him a moment, then took him by the hand 
as he said: 

“I am delighted to see you again, Lieutenant Musello. I 
have often thought of you since our record flight from 
northern France to Nice. Are you going to take me on this 
flight?” asked Reaves. Before the lieutenant could answer 
the prince said, “Yes, Major, I am again giving you my 
trusted pilot.” 

“I am delighted at the opportunity to serve the Major 
again,” put in the pilot. 

Reaves dressed in Captain Heine’s uniform and Lieutenant 
Musello dressed in the clothes of a German lieutenant of 
aviation climbed into the captured aeroplane and took the air; 
ascending to a great height, they started straight for the 
enemy’s lines. It was a cloudy afternoon and the heavy fog 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 253 


for a great part of the time kept them from being seen 
either by friend or foe, but as they crossed the battleline 
they could hear shells bursting around them and looking 
over the fuselage Reaves could see frequent puffs of white 
smoke dangerously near them. He reached down and picked 
up an object from the floor of the plane and dropped it over¬ 
board. It was a flag signaling that it was one of their own 
planes approaching; almost immediately shells stopped burst¬ 
ing about their plane and they continued their flight without 
further molestation. 

After they had gotten some distance back of the enemy’s 
battleline, they turned sharply to the left around the Swiss 
border and continued on in a northwesterly course. Late 
in the afternoon the fog lifted and the clouds passed away 
before a cold northern wind. Reaves had studied his map 
carefully and the pilot, who was familiar with the terrain 
beneath them, had been fully instructed as to their destina¬ 
tion. Just before sunset Reaves, looking through his field 
glasses, could see far in the distance ahead of them the glare 
from the sun shining on water and he knew they were ap¬ 
proaching Lake Constance. He immediately signaled the 
pilot to drop closer to ground so he could keep a close watch 
for the Chateau where Captain Heine had told him he had 
left Theresa. After sailing around for a considerable time, 
observing the country very closely, Reaves spotted an old 
Chateau which he thought from the description must be the 
placed marked by Captain Heine in the little map he drew 
of the location. The pilot picked a large field nearby for a 
landing place and turned the nose of the machine downward. 

They made a safe landing and started looking about them, 
to get their bearings before approaching the house which was 
some distance away. The sun had disappeared beneath the 
western sky and darkness was rapidly approaching when 
they started walking across the field side by side in the direc¬ 
tion of the old Chateau which was several hundred yards 
away. As they approached it not a human being could be 
seen anywhere. Reaves entered the gate and walked slowly 
up the walk which led to the front door. He knocked several 
times but within there was no sound; then when he had about 
decided there was no one in the house a maid opened the 
door. 


254 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“I wish to see madame,” he told her. 

He was admitted into a large reception hall beautifully 
furnished with costly rugs and antique furniture; on the wall 
hung a number of pictures of men who had been prominent 
in the history of Austria and Germany. He had been wait¬ 
ing only a short time when an elderly lady entered and 
addressed him as Captain Heine. She was tall, stately and 
had a queenly manner about her. She carried a handkerchief 
in her hand and as she advanced he saw in the dim light 
of the room that her eyes were stained from continual weep¬ 
ing, and she looked worn and haggard. Immediately he felt 
that all was not well with Theresa. He greeted her with a 
profound bow and stood waiting for her to speak fearing at 
the same time what she might say. She raised her handker¬ 
chief to her face and shook her head sadly as she said: 

“You have come too late, Captain. I did all I could but 
they came and took her away.” 

For a moment he staggered backward with his hand to 
his forehead. “Oh, God; is it possible that I am not in time 
to save her,” he exclaimed; but he quickly recovered and 
looking at the care-worn face before him he asked : 

“Do you know where they have taken her ?” 

She looked away, grief showing in every line of her broad 
aristocratic face. 

“An officer came this morning,” she began in a trembling 
voice, “and told me she had been taken to Munich where she 
would be tried in a few days. It is all so terrible I cannot 
bear to speak of it. She seemed so sweet and lovely, and 
until the last she continued to say that you or some American 
friend whose name she would not tell me would come and 
rescue her. She called his name once in her sleep though and 
it sounded like ‘Reve’ or something very similar.” 

She stopped and stood there looking out of the large bow 
window, fumbling with her handkerchief while he watched 
her in silence. There was no doubt in his mind about her 
thinking he was Captain Heine; his makeup was perfect. 
He had now entirely recovered from the shock of the first 
news of Theresa’s having been taken away. It was no time 
to lose his head and give way to emotions, and he did not 
intend to give up until he knew nothing else could be done. 
He was not long in coming to a decision and once he decided, 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 255 

he started immediately to carry out his plans. Suddenly 
changing his attitude he asked her: 

“Did the officer tell you exactly the date she would be 
tried ?” 

“He did not say for certain,” she replied, turning to face 
him, “but I am afraid it is all over by now; poor child.” 

“I am going to Munich immediately and see what can be 
done, if I am not too late,” Reaves announced, and he walked 
over and took her by the hand. 

“I want to extend to you my sincere thanks for all you 
have done for Theresa,” he said, then he bowed and pressed 
her trembling hand to his lips and hurriedly left the Chateau. 

The pilot whom he had left outside joined him in the yard 
and they ran back to the aeroplane which they had left in the 
field. As they climbed into their seats Reaves said to the 
pilot: 

“To Munich with all possible speed.” 

They were soon on their way again flying through the 
air at terrific speed. Reaves, restless and anxious, could not 
keep still and frequently looked over the sides of the plane. 
At times all was darkness, not a light could be seen, then a 
dim light could be made out as they passed over a village on 
the earth a mile below. They traveled a northeasterly direc¬ 
tion on a straight line from Lake Constance to Munich, a 
distance of something over a hundred miles, and while it 
seemed to Reaves an eternity in reality it was less than an 
hour from the time they left the Chateau to the time the 
pilot called back to him, that they were approaching the 
city. The great searchlights; night watchmen of all the cities 
within several hundred miles of the border, picked them up 
miles before they reached the outlying districts of the old 
historic city, and signaled them to a safe landing place. 
After Reaves had shown the papers he carried he was readily 
accepted as Captain Heine of the German Intelligence Serv¬ 
ice. He soon found his way to the presence of the com¬ 
manding officer to whom he handed his identification papers 
and stood watching the officer closely while he examined 
them. When he had finished, he folded the papers up and 
handed them back to him as he said: 

“Your papers are in order; what is it I can do for the 
intelligence service ?” 


256 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


Reaves felt very much relieved that the officer had not 
spoken to him as though he knew Captain Heine, but his 
nerves were keyed up to the highest pitch; it was a critical 
moment. One little false move and all would be lost; he 
would be discovered in his daring impersonation of Captain 
Heine and never see Theresa again. He had thought it all 
out and answered without hesitation: 

“You have an important prisoner here whom I wish to 
interview, her name I believe is Theresa Busch,” he con¬ 
cluded carelessly. 

“Oh, yes; she is here; her trial is set for next week,” said 
the officer. “I will arrange for you to interview her.” 

Reaves did not like the officer’s looks. There were no 
marks of tenderness about his face; he was hard and cruel. 

“Here is trouble for me,” thought Reaves to himself. 

The officer wrote something on a piece of paper and 
handed it to him. 

“This will insure your admittance,” and eyeing Reaves 
closely he said, “I have the records of the case here, if you 
wish to look them over later.” 

Reaves thanked him as he gave the German salute and left 
the office. 

He did not go direct to see Theresa but took a walk about 
the camp to get his bearings and think matters over. After 
walking about for a considerable time he found himself near 
the prison where Theresa was confined, but as he started 
towards the building he suddenly halted. Something seemed 
to restrain him, a voice seemed to say, “Do not go.” He 
stood still for a moment thinking, Theresa was impulsive, 
she might not have herself under control, a single word or 
act might betray them both; anyway she could give him no 
information which would assist him in his efforts to secure 
her release. He retraced his steps and went to the office of 
the Judge Advocate and after a great deal of argument and 
persuasion he finally got that official to postpone the trial for 
two weeks. 


XXXII 


Reaves tried every means at his disposal to get Theresa 
released but without success. He had only succeeded in get¬ 
ting a postponement of her final trial for a couple of weeks, 
and he had gotten that on the pretext that he could secure 
further evidence by going to Berlin, and reporting to the 
war office what took place at Monte Carlo at the earliest 
moment. He realized fully the great risk he was taking in 
going to Berlin in the guise of Captain Heine, but it was the 
only way. So early the next morning he found Lieutenant 
Musello and told him to make his way back across the Italian 
border alone. He then took an envelope from his pocket and 
handed it to the pilot and told him to give it to Prince Polini. 
It contained instructions as to where to find the evidence 
which he had collected against the Countess St. Cere, and 
sent to Paris to be placed in a certain place for safe keeping. 
He then went to the commanding officer and requested 
that he be sent to Berlin by aeroplane, insisting that he must 
report on what took place at Monte Carlo and secure fur¬ 
ther information about Theresa before her trial two weeks 
hence. As he climbed into the rear seat of the fast plane, 
the German pilot looking back over his shoulder at him 
asked : 

“Where to, sir?” 

“Berlin,” replied Reaves, and took his seat. 

He did not care to make conversation; he was supposed 
to be Captain Heine, and his safety depended on his wits. 
For a long time they traveled through the air in silence. 
Finally the pilot spoke to him: 

“We are passing over Leipsic, sir,” he said; “this is 
where we whipped the French a hundred years ago and 
caused the downfall of Napoleon.” 

“So says history,” replied Reaves, looking over the side. 

It was a clear winter day and Reaves remained for some 
minutes looking over the sides of the plane. A great sym¬ 
pathy for brave France filled his heart as he recounted that 

257 


258 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


on the fields beneath him just a hundred years ago the great 
Napoleon fought single-handed the combined armies of the 
nations of Europe. It was then as in this war, Democracy 
was in a death struggle with aristocracy and autocracy. 
The freedom of the masses against the oppression of the 
privileged few. They continued on, traveling at terrific 
speed, and landed early in the afternoon in an aviation field 
near Berlin. 

Reaves immediately started for the office of the minister 
of war and as he ascended the steps of the building a strange 
voice called out in German: 

“Delighted to see you back, Captain Heine. ,, 

The sound of the name of the man whom he was imper¬ 
sonating caused him to draw up with a start and at once 
become alert. It was a dangerous game he was playing in 
impersonating an officer of the Imperial Intelligence Service, 
and he needed all his wits to prevent discovery. Until he 
heard himself called Captain Heine he had hardly thought of 
the real dangers which surrounded him since he left Munich. 

The man who had addressed him as Captain Heine had 
stopped in front of him and saluted, and was now extend¬ 
ing his hand. 

“I just heard of your marvelous escape from prison camp 
in southern France and that you were in Munich,” continued 
the other. “How in the world did you do it?” 

Reaves returned the salute and took the extended hand 
as he looked away and shook his head sadly, “I have had a 
pretty tough time of it,” he replied, “but I got through 
somehow. I am going in here to make my report.” 

“You do look a little done up from your experiences,” 
commented the officer, dropping his hand. “I know you 
collected some valuable information; go ahead and make your 
report, Captain, I will be around the building and see 
you later.” 

The officer hurried on down the steps and Reaves, feeling 
much relieved because he was everywhere taken for Captain 
Heine, continued on and into the building. As he passed 
through the halls several officers saluted him and called him 
Captain Heine, but passed him by without stopping. He 
watched every face and whenever he saw a faint sign of 
recognition as a man approached he hastened to appear 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 259 


as though he recognized the man who had appeared to 
recognize him, but he always walked as though in a great 
hurry. With but little difficulty he reached the private office 
of the Minister of War. He knew that official by sight, but 
as he glanced about the room he did not see him, so he 
approached a desk and inquired if he would soon return to 
his office. The officer on duty looked up from his desk and 
shook his head as he replied: 

“He is at the front, sir, but the assistant minister of war 
is over there at his desk, sir.” He walked over and stopped 
a little in front and at the side of the official’s desk. As 
he looked up, Reaves quickly came to attention and saluted 
in true German style. The man did not speak, which fact 
Reaves was pleased to note. The less talking, the better his 
chances. He had followed that idea since the time he landed 
at the Chateau. After a moment’s hesitation, in which he 
decided that as the official before him did not call him Cap¬ 
tain Heine or show any sign of recognition, the man whom 
he was impersonating was probably not known to him. He 
handed him his identification card in which his own picture, 
taken in Captain Heine’s uniform, was in place of the usual 
one of that officer. 

“I have come to report on the little business at Monte 
Carlo.” 

“Yes,” replied the official, and reaching in his desk, “here 
is a report, Captain Heine, telling of your being captured 
and of your escape and getting back across the border. A 
nice piece of work in getting away from those devils,” was 
his comment. “There is something in this report about a 
woman,” he continued, as he took it from the envelope and 
looked at it. 

“Yes,” said Reaves, “Theresa Busch, an American, who 
has been in Berlin for about a year, was suspected of carry¬ 
ing information and arrested and put in prison at Munich.” 
The official was thoughtful a moment, then looking up at 
him said: 

“Isn’t she the woman who helped that American, who has 
given us so much trouble, to escape from the city?” 

“It was thought that she did, but we have no proof of it,” 
quickly replied Reaves. 


260 behind the scenes of destiny 


“If she is guilty she must pay the penalty,” said the offi¬ 
cial sternly. 

“Her trial is to come up in two weeks,” continued the 
supposed Captain Heine, “and I want to ask for a postpone¬ 
ment for an indefinite period.” 

“What reason have you for making such an unusual re¬ 
quest, Captain Heine?” 

“My main reason,” replied Reaves, looking at the man 
sitting before him, “is this, the Countess St. Cere, who is 
of the diplomatic branch of the Intelligence Service of the 
Empire, was captured at Monte Carlo, and is being held as a 
hostage for the safety of Theresa Busch.” 

“I see,” said the official, looking at Reaves thoughtfully. 

After a long silence he said, “The Countess was one of 
our most valuable spies; and you say she is being held as a 
hostage to guarantee the safety of this American woman?” 

“She is, sir; and I think the war office owes her some 
consideration,” said Reaves. 

“What evidence have they against the Countess?” 

“She was captured in the raid at Monte Carlo, and you 
no doubt remember she was in London for some time, also in 
Paris, and in Switzerland when an important conference 
was held some months ago. It was she who reported that 
an American whom she had met in London, was seen there 
in disguise, and you are no doubt familiar with what hap¬ 
pened shortly afterwards.” 

“Yes, we have reason to believe that the American at 
the Swiss conference was the same one who has given us 
so much trouble here in the city and other places,” said the 
official. 

Reaves, as Captain Heine, was supposed to know about 
such matters, so he answered. 

“I am certain it was the same man. He was traced direct 
to Berlin from Switzerland.” 

“Did he have anything to do with this affair at Monte 
Carlo?” he suddenly asked, looking up sharply. 

“He directed the whole affair, and personally directed 
the raid on the villa,” replied Reaves. 

The high official turned his head and for a minute was 
engrossed in deep thought; a serious expression overspread 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 261 


his whole face, and for a long time he was thoughtful; then 
he said slowly: 

“America’s sympathy has always been against us, and it 
will not be many months before we will have an American 
army facing us in the field. If we don’t speed up with our 
submarine program we are lost. We cannot conquer Europe 
and then withstand millions of fresh troops from America. 
This elusive American only typifies the feeling in his coun¬ 
try, they are against us almost to a man.” 

While Reaves’ primary reason for coming to Berlin was 
to secure the safety of Theresa and her release if possible, 
he did not lose sight of an opportunity to get information 
concerning the German war plans and diplomatic moves, and 
this was a great opportunity, so he launched out into a 
discussion of the war and gained much valuable informa¬ 
tion from his talk with the official. At a favorable oppor¬ 
tunity he asked what disposition would be made of the case 
of the Countess and Theresa Busch. 

“I will take the matter up and see what can be done. 
Her trial is not to come up for some time and we will go into 
the case thoroughly; in the meantime, there are important 
matters for you to look into here in the city.” 

“I am ready for any task, sir,” said Reaves. 

“Well,” continued the official, “there is a leakage of in¬ 
formation from the war office and you must look into the 
matter and find the guilty parties. You know your duty, 
Captain, and I shall expect you to turn into me a complete 
report within a week.” 

Reaves felt relieved when the interview terminated and 
he immediately left the room. He had gotten by so far 
without being suspected, and no embarrassing situation had 
come up. “It has been too easy,” he said to himself, “and 
it cannot continue like this, but he had started in to im¬ 
personate Captain Heine for specific reasons, and now that 
he was everywhere accepted, he must continue the deception 
with a bold front. On leaving the war office he went direct 
to Captain Heine’s apartment, where he let himself in with 
a key which he had found in that officer’s clothes when he 
searched through the effects taken from him at the army 
camps in southern France. 

He went about the apartment looking into every room to 


262 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


familiarize himself with the general plan. The doors and 
windows were examined carefully. He finally stopped at 
the curtained door leading into the library and pulled the 
curtains to one side and looked in. The safe he had seen 
there on his hurried visit the night he left the city to cross 
the border had been removed and a larger one stood in its 
place. 

Many strange and mysterious happenings had taken place 
since the night Theresa had enticed Captain Heine to his 
own apartment and then drugged him, while he, Reaves, and 
Clicot had robbed the safe of papers containing valuable 
secrets of the German war office. Theresa was there then. 
She had not failed him in time of great need; without her 
assistance he could never have secured those valuable secrets 
which were the chief reason for his making his last trip to 
the city. She had helped him when he needed her most, 
but what had he done for her in her present serious situa¬ 
tion? He was forced to confess to himself that up to that 
time he had really accomplished nothing. He recalled her 
last words to him in that room. “You have accomplished 
your mission to Berlin, now please go before it is too late,” 
she had told him. There had been anxiety and distress in 
her voice when she had said it. He walked into the room 
looking at the safe as he went forward. Suddenly a thought 
crowded into his mind. The safe had been changed because 
some trace had been left when Clicot opened the other one 
and Captain Heine had suspected something, but on account 
of his love for Theresa he did not detain her; instead he 
took her away to a place where he thought she would be 
safe. As he stood there thinking in the silence of the house, 
he was almost startled by the sudden ringing of the telephone. 
He hesitated but a moment; he must play the part, so he 
walked over and picked up the receiver. 

“Hello!” he spoke a little nervously. 

“This is Ulsa Beeman speaking,” said the familiar voice, 
“I am glad to know you have returned safely to the city, 
Captain Heine,” she continued. “I was passing the war 
office today and saw you greeting an officer on the steps.” 

“Yes, I arrived a few hours ago,” he answered. 

“Tell me about Theresa; I do hope so much that you 
saw her safely over the border.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 263 

“Haven’t you heard anything about her recently?” he 
faltered. 

“Not a word since you took her away,” came the ready 
reply. “Do tell me what you did with her.” 

It was plain to him that even Miss Beeman did not recog¬ 
nize him on the street, nor his voice over the ’phone. He 
must be more like Captain Heine than he thought himself 
to be. From her conversation she must know all about the 
circumstances which made it necessary for Theresa to make 
a hurried departure from the city. Of all people, Miss Bee- 
man was the one he wanted to see most. She could tell 
him all about Theresa’s last few days in the city and why 
she had to leave; so after a moment’s silence he asked: 

“Where can I see you?” 

“Why, I shall be delighted to see you and hear all about 
Theresa, anywhere you say.” 

He hesitated a moment before suggesting a place. 

“Could you come here without being seen—you know 
where the apartment is, I suppose.” 

“Of course, I remember where your apartment is, Captain 
Heine. I can never forget the night I went there with 
Theresa just before you took her away. I will be there in 
a quarter of an hour.” 

“Thank you,” he said, and hung up the receiver. 

He sat quietly waiting her arrival, and at the same time 
wondering what Theresa had done to cause suspicion to be 
aroused about her. He recounted in his mind his visits 
to her studio, her acquaintance with Miss Rotherford and 
Miss Beeman, and her visit to Captain Heine’s apartment 
and drugging him the night the secret papers were secured 
from the safe. “It must have been that she was suspected 
of helping me,” he said aloud to himself. 

As he pursued his musings, he heard a gentle ringing of 
the doorbell; he quickly rose from his seat and went down 
the long hall and opened the door. 

“Congratulations on your successful trip to Monte Carlo, 
Captain Heine,” said Miss Beeman, with a smile, as she 
extended her hand and stepped inside. He bowed and took 
her extended hand then closed the door. The hall was not 
lighted and she could not see his features clearly. He led 
the way back to the den and stopped in front of the window 


264 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


where he appeared to be gazing at something out in the 
street. He wanted to test his disguise on his co-worker, 
whom he considered a keen observer. The girl had stopped 
behind him and was staring at his back, at the same time 
thinking of his queer conduct after appearing so anxious 
to see her. She stood long looking at his back, waiting for 
him to turn around and speak to her, but he did not move. 
She hated Captain Heine and did not wholly trust him, but 
it was a part of her business to be nice to him; and Ulsa 
Beeman had never seen a man of whom she was afraid. 
She waited silent and mystified for him to speak, until the 
situation had become somewhat tense, and she was begin¬ 
ning to get a little impatient. She took a few steps forward 
and stopped almost beside him; still he did not move. His 
mind appeared to be in a state of total abstraction. 

“What is it you wish to discuss with me, Captain Heine ?” 
she asked with a faint smile playing over her face. 

He turned around and looked at her; still he saw no 
signs of recognition in her face; she was almost frightened. 
After another silence she said: 

“You are hardly yourself today; I know something is 
worrying you; do tell me about Theresa.” 

A pleasant smile came over his handsome face as he took 
her by the hand again and said in English: 

“Your instinct is always correct, Miss Beeman. There is 
certainly something—many things—worrying me,” and be¬ 
fore the astonished girl could recover her speech he said, 
“And now I want to offer my apologies for playing this 
little trick on you, but I wanted to test my impersonation 
of Captain Heine thoroughly before venturing into the city 
again; and now that I look enough like him to deceive you, 
I am more than satisfied.” 

“I shall never forgive you for this,” she said jokingly, 
as she looked him over from head to foot. “You are an 
exact duplicate, his clothes, even to boots, and spurs, and 
his horrid little closely cropped mustache, same color hair, 
trimmed and combed in the same ugly style and everything. 
Yes, I must say I would have to stand you up beside that 
haughty devil and look you both over before I could tell 
one from the other.” 

“Thank you, Miss Beeman, I take your remarks as a 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 265 


compliment to my make-up,” he said, and suddenly chang¬ 
ing his expression, “have a seat, we must get to business.” 

“Where is Theresa ?” asked the girl, with a note of anxiety 
in her voice. 

Reaves looked away, his face was very grave and there 
was a long silence before he replied: 

“Poor Theresa,” he exclaimed with a note of agony in 
his voice. 

“Where is she?” persisted the girl. 

“I am afraid I have made a mess of things,” he went 
on in an even voice, “but it seems Chance and Fate have 
both combined against me.” He turned his head as he said 
slowly, “She is in prison near Munich.” 

“In prison!” exclaimed Miss Beeman. “What on earth 
has happened ?” 

“It is a long story,” he answ'ered, “but briefly: she was 
left at a chateau near Lake Constance with some friends of 
Captain Heine, who intended coming back for her later. 
She was arrested on a charge of giving information to the 
Allies, and taken to Munich. Her trial comes up in two 
weeks.” 

“Then where is Captain Heine?” put in Miss Beeman 
impatiently. 

“He is in prison in southern France and I have come 
here impersonating him mainly for the purpose of rescuing 
Theresa.” 

The girl looked away, lost in deep thought. After a 
long silence, she turned her head and as their eyes met she 
said: 

“You have a very dangerous task before you.” 

“I am quite sure of it, but with your help there is no 
telling what can be done.” Then looking at her, “There are 
many things I want to discuss with you, but they can wait.” 

“What is it I can do?” 

“First find out who are Captain Heine’s close friends, 
both men and women, also his relatives. This information is 
necessary to me before I run into some of them about the 
city.” 

“That is easy; I probably know most of them already, 
and I can have the details by tomorrow.” 

“I am sure you can,” he encouraged, “and now tell me 


266 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


why it was necessary for Theresa to leave the city. From 
your conversation over the telephone you seem to know all 
about it.” 

The girl looked at him seriously. “I have never gotten 
the details straight in my mind,” she said. “Captain Heine 
called me over the ’phone one night and asked me to come 
with Theresa to his apartment. I did as he asked me; she 
seemed very much upset, and did not talk much after we 
arrived at the apartment. Captain Heine asked me to stay 
in the library while he and Theresa came into the room we 
are in now, which I believe is called the den.” She stopped 
and fixed her eyes on Reaves. 

“Did you know that he is desperately in love with 
Theresa?” 

He nodded his head and told her to go on with the story. 

“Well, I slipped up to the door and listened but could 
only catch bits of their conversation. There was something 
said about the maid and some of her cousins seeing a strange 
man going into her studio. 

“Then I heard Captain Heine say he was leaving for 
Monte Carlo that night.” 

“Was my name mentioned?” he queried. 

“Some reference was made to a report about you having 
recently been received from the States.” 

“Was there anything said about the little affair which 
was pulled off here in the apartment the night I left the 
city?” 

“Not a word; they were only in this room about half 
an hour, then Captain Heine went out, and was gone about 
two hours. When he returned he seemed a little upset 
himself. All three of us left almost immediately and went 
to Theresa’s studio apartment, where she hurriedly put on a 
traveling suit, while I put a few necessary things into a 
traveling bag. I went with them down to the street where 
a car was waiting. She asked me to straighten up her 
studio and lock the door, and as they started off Captain 
Heine called back to me and said, ‘Do not be seen about the 
place.’ ” 

“Did Theresa talk to you any about the trip?” 

“No, I could not make her talk; her lips had been sealed 
absolutely.” 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 267 


'‘And that is all you know about what led up to her hur¬ 
ried departure, Miss Beeman?” 

She flashed her eyes upon him and a bit of anger showed 
plainly upon her face as she spoke. 

“What do you think I should have done; made inquiries 
of Captain Heine and give myself away? I am too fond of 
life and liberty to take such chances when it is not neces¬ 
sary.” 

Reaves looked at her a moment, then said, “You displayed 
an unusual lack of zeal in handling the situation, but as 
usual you were right. Theresa’s presence here was a prob¬ 
lem for you and for me. You saw an opportunity for her 
to get out of the city; you reasoned that Captain Heine was 
in love with her and therefore it would be safe for her 
to go away with him, and you did not interfere or display 
any undue curiosity about her reasons for leaving. You 
showed good judgment, Miss Beeman, as you always do.” 

She had blushed, become angry, then calm again while 
he was talking, and when he had finished she said: 

“I notified you as soon as I could after they left.” 

“You certainly did, and then the case was closed so far 
as you were concerned until you heard from me.” 


XXXIII 


Reaves waited until darkness, that great shielder of the 
hunted, had spread its shadows over the city, then he ven¬ 
tured forth and made his way to several different places, 
finally winding up at the home of old Gus Lenaire, who had 
furnished him a secret hiding place on previous visits to 
the city. He had not heard a word about Gus since that 
eventful night months ago when, while he was waiting for 
Gus before going to Captain Heine's apartment to secure 
valuable war secrets from his safe, a man of the under¬ 
world had entered Gus’s house while he was there and told 
him, that Gus had been arrested. He wondered as he made 
his way towards the house late at night why Miss Beeman 
had not said something about him. Gus had been very faith¬ 
ful, and acting as a go-between, he had gotten much valu¬ 
able secret information through his son in the army, from 
the underworld, and many other sources. Reaves appre¬ 
ciated his loyalty and sympathized with him in his sad and 
disappointed life. 

As he approached the house he saw the familiar dim light 
burning in the little back room, and as he was Captain Heine 
to the outside world, he did not enter by the secret door 
as he had done on previous visits, but walked boldly up to 
the front door and knocked. After waiting a long time 
without a sound from within, he knocked again, louder this 
time, and in a little while the door was opened and a soldier 
in uniform stood in the doorway, and seeing the man out¬ 
side in the uniform of an officer the soldier came to at¬ 
tention and saluted. He had seen Gus’s only son before 
and in the dim light he recognized him. 

“I want to see Gus Lenaire,” said Reaves. 

The soldier's voice faltered, ‘‘My father is—not here, sir, 
he—is dead.” 

“Gus dead!” exclaimed Reaves. 

“Yes, sir; I buried mv father two days ago, sir. He died 
268 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 269 


in prison, where he had been ever since he was accused of 
helping that American get information for our enemies.” 

‘'My God, poor old Gus,” exclaimed Reaves, as his head 
dropped on his chest. 

For a moment he was almost unnerved by the distressing 
news. The thought that Gus had been caught while trying 
to assist him, and that he had died from the prolonged con¬ 
finement therefrom, overwhelmed him. Fate had certainly 
been playing tricks with him since the night he raided the 
villa at Monte Carlo. First Captain Heine's desperate ill¬ 
ness had prevented him from finding out where Theresa 
was in time to rescue her; his failure to secure her release 
from prison, in Munich, and now he felt in a large measure 
responsible for Gus’s death. He was deeply concerned at the 
series of happenings which had gone against him. He did 
not know how long he had been standing there in that de¬ 
jected attitude when the soldier's voice broke the silence: 

“Is there anything I can do, sir ?” he asked. 

Reaves quickly pulled himself together and became alert. 
He was standing face to face with Gus’s son, but the boy 
did not know him. For some time he gazed steadily into the 
boy’s troubled face. He wanted to go in and talk things 
over with him and speak some words of comfort to this 
distressed soldier left alone in the world; but he knew that 
in his heart this boy felt that he, Reaves, was responsible 
for his father’s confinement and death, and to disclose his 
identity to him under such circumstances would be the 
height of imprudence. Finally he replied: 

“No, soldier, there is nothing you can do—I—only 
wanted to talk to your father. I am sorry to learn he is 
dead,” and taking the soldier by the hand he said, “you 
have my sympathy, young man.” 

The soldier stood in the doorway and watched the dis¬ 
appearing figure of Reaves until it was swallowed up in the 
shadows of the night. He was mystified and continued to 
wonder what an officer of the army wanted with his father. 

Reaves made his way back to the apartment feeling greatly 
depressed and stretched himself out on the lounge in the 
den and started in to think things out and lay his plans for 
future action, but so great was his perturbation over events 
of the past few weeks, culminating in the death of old Gus 


270 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 

Lenaire, he could not think clearly. His life, since the 
day he had helped Lord Cullen to make his escape from the 
internment camp, had been so crowded with exciting adven¬ 
tures that he had relegated romance to a second place in 
his mind, and it was hard for him to detach himself from the 
secrets of nations to think with facility about personal mat¬ 
ters. As he sat there in the perfect silence of the night, a 
feeling of terror seemed to grip his whole being. Something 
had come to life within him, something that was once dead; 
he had purposely killed it with the force of his indomitable 
power of will. He suddenly realized that he still loved 
Theresa and at that moment she was in great danger. 
Secretly in his heart of hearts, he had long ago decided 
that he would never renew his unhappy romance with her. 
His experience had left with him, a sort of haunting fear 
of a repetition. Falling in love with him had been like 
playing with fire; it had hurt, hurt so damnably. 

To him marriage meant the consummation of the highest 
type of human love. Anything less was the wanton expres¬ 
sion of a soulless passion which has its origin in the basest 
elements of human character. Their first romance floated 
before his vision like a mirage clearly outlined against the 
desert sands. He saw her, young, beautiful, frivolous and 
full of life. She had been pronounced by her set the sea¬ 
son’s most popular debutante. He had met her while a 
student at Harvard and made love to her with the ardor and 
enthusiasm which is so characteristic of bold youth. She had 
accepted his proposal, and for a while they lived in blissful 
anticipation of their future and only for each other, but 
fate intervened—they were too happy—it could not last— 
and after a lover’s quarrel they had separated, and two 
years later they chanced to cross each other’s path again in 
a foreign city, and under conditions in which Reaves had had 
an opportunity to test anew her love for him. She had re¬ 
sponded to the test and he of his own free will renewed the 
friendship. But for him, she could have lived in Berlin all 
through the war without being molested, therefore he was 
responsible for her present plight. 

Alone there in the oppressive darkness of the apartment 
and the hushed silence of the early morning hour, Reaves 
felt the full guilt of his cold, indifferent neglect of Theresa, 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 271 


and as he thought of what might now happen to her, he felt 
the unmeasurable depths of despair and his heart grew sick 
with anguish. In his present state of mind he could think 
of no way to secure her release. His soul lay crushed and 
bleeding, leaving his brain suffer the tortures of the damned. 
As he lay alone with his burden of despair, from sheer ex¬ 
haustion he dropped off to sleep. When he awoke, the first 
rays of daylight were just entering the room. He arose 
from his couch and went over and stood by the window; 
almost directly in front of him the sun was coming up. 
High overhead hung a canopy of rosy light and great spokes 
of fire extended up into the opalescent sky. Only the 
faintest echoes from the street below disturbed the appalling 
stillness, and it seemed to his still drowsy senses that a 
muted hush hung, like a benediction, over the city. Sud¬ 
denly, impelled by some strange emotion, he exclaimed, “Poor 
Theresa! Oh, God, help me to save her/’ 


XXXIV 


On the following morning Miss Beeman, true to her 
promise, brought Reaves the information he desired about 
Captain Heine’s friends and relatives, also quite a lot of 
other data which Was of inestimable value to the enemies 
of Germany. He had been told at the war office that the 
minister of war would not return for about a week and he 
had also been ordered to investigate the leakage of informa¬ 
tion from the war office, which gave him an excuse to go 
around the army and navy buildings and make inquiries. 
Armed with the information just given him by Miss Beeman 
he felt quite secure in the role of Captain Heine, and went 
about the city very much as he pleased. He made use of 
every opportunity to gather secret information, to be turned 
over to the Allies, if he ever succeeded in securing Theresa’s 
release and crossing the border again. He kept on the 
lookout for the minister of war himself, and one morning he 
spied that official going into his office. After waiting a short 
time for him to get to his desk he walked in and went boldly 
up in front of the desk and stopped and stood at attention. 
As the official looked up he saluted and placed an envelope 
on the desk before him, saying as he did so: 

“I was asked to bring you this report today, sir.” 

“What is it?” asked the official harshly. 

“It relates to the matter of secret information leaking out 
from the war office, sir. There has been a good deal of 
information getting to the enemies of Germany, and while 
it will take more time to get a complete report, sir, I was 
ordered to lay before you what I have been able to secure 
up to the present time.” 

“I will look it over,” said the official, abstractedly. 

“I have also been working on the case of Theresa Busch 
which involves the Countess St. Cere,” continued Reaves, 
“and I should like to get the evidence against her which has 
been filed here in the office.” The official turned his head 

272 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 273 


and spoke to a clerk who started looking through some 
records and in a short time the clerk said: 

“Sir, the papers in that case were forwarded to Munich 
two days ago.” 

Reaves’ heart sank as he heard the words, which prob¬ 
ably meant that he had failed again to be in time to save 
Theresa, but he did not falter in his plans. After a mo¬ 
ment’s hesitation he said: 

“You are probably not aware, sir, that the Countess has 
been captured and is being held as a hostage for the safety 
of Theresa Busch.” 

The official looked at him for a moment seriously then 
he said, “The Countess St. Cere has been a valuable agent 
of the war office, you had better go down there and have the 
case postponed indefinitely.” 

“I would suggest,” said Reaves, “that you give me an 
order to that effect.” 

The order was immediately written, ordering postpone¬ 
ment of the trial until further notice from the war office. 

Reaves took it and hurried from the building. He had no 
trouble in getting an aeroplane to take him back to Munich, 
where he arrived about the middle of the afternoon. He 
immediately went again to see the commanding officer, whom 
he had seen on his previous visit to Munich a week before, 
and presented the order which he had gotten from the 
minister of war. After reading the order the officer looked 
up from his desk and slowly shook his head from side to 
side stubbornly as he said: 

“You are too late.” 

“You don’t mean that she has been tried already,” said 
Reaves sternly. 

“She has been tried and convicted of giving information 
to the enemy and the case will not be reopened, Captain 
Heine,” replied the officer. 

“I presume though, after this order from the minister of 
war, you will suspend sentence indefinitely,” ventured 
Reaves. 

“The order refers only to the trial and as you are aware 
I am commanding officer and I am given a wide latitude in 
such matters.” 

“I wish to remind you, sir, that one of the most valued 


274 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


spies of the Imperial Secret Service, the Countess St. Cere 
by name, is in France with death penalty hanging over her 
head, and I am informed that if anything happens to the 
lady you have in prison here, the same fate will be meted 
out to the countess.” 

Reaves had no idea of letting the countess suffer any such 
fate, but Theresa was in great danger and at that moment 
any means was justifiable in his mind, if it resulted in saving 
the girl he loved. For a long time there was silence between 
the two men and the stern old officer seemed lost in thought, 
finally he said: 

“It is true that the countess has been of great service to 
us, but this is war and everyone has to take chances. It is 
unfortunate that she was arresed; but she will not be shot, 
they don't do things that way over there,” then with a cruel 
air of finality he added, “but we do things our own way in 
Germany and in the case of Theresa Busch she will be dealt 
with in accordance with the verdict rendered.” 

Seeing that further argument was useless, Reaves felt 
that he was at the end of his resources and looking at the 
officer he said: 

“May I ask when sentence is to be carried out in this 
case?” 

“Tomorrow morning at sunrise,” replied the officer, with 
an attitude of indifference. 

Reaves was totally unprepared for such an answer, and 
the plain announcement of the officer that Theresa had been 
given the extreme penalty, which would be carried out at 
sunrise the next day, struck him like a thunderbolt, a sudden 
fit of desperation seized him, and for a moment he almost 
lost his head, but as he stood there silently his better judg¬ 
ment soon exerted itself, and he saluted the officer and left 
the room. 


XXXV 


There was no way of getting a stay of sentence even for 
a day or two. “I have failed utterly,” he said half-aloud to 
himself, “and in the most important undertaking of my 
life.” Fate and chance it seemed were both scheming to 
bring about his downfall. For Theresa’s execution, he felt, 
would certainly be the end of his career. But for Captain 
Heine having been wounded in the raid on the villa at 
Monte Carlo, he would have been in time to rescue her, but 
that did not matter now, he had arrived too late. He must 
see Theresa though, and tell her the whole story, and beg 
her forgiveness. 

He walked over to the prison where the order from the 
officer gained him ready admittance and the matron con¬ 
ducted him to the room in which Theresa was confined. She 
was lying on an old couch with her hand covering her face. 
He stood in the doorway while the matron went over to 
her and announced that Captain Heine wanted to interview 
her. After being announced he told the matron to retire 
that he would be responsible for the prisoner; he then closed 
the door and went and stood over her. Presently she opened 
her eyes and looked up at him through her tears. 

“Too late, Captain Heine,” she said, “but it is all right, I 
don’t mind dying.” 

For a moment he did not move or speak, he was almost 
afraid to make himself known. She might in her astonish¬ 
ment utter his name aloud and the matron was probably 
listening just outside the door and would hear what she 
said. For the few moments he stood there it seemed to 
him that all the love he ever had for the sex centered on the 
figure looking up at him from the couch. Life meant 
nothing to him without her. 

“Theresa!” he whispered softly. 

The eyes opened wider, and a glimmer of recognition 
showed on her distressed face, then she lifted up her arms 
and extended them to him. He dropped on his knees beside 

275 


276 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


the couch, and for a long time they embraced in silence, 
then he spoke again: 

“Can you ever forgive me, my own Theresa ?” 

“Yes, dear, it is all right, I have felt for days that you 
were trying to rescue me, something told me you were work¬ 
ing desperately to find me, I blame only myself/’ and trying 
to smile she added, “now that you have come, I will go to my 
death happily tomorrow.” And, drawing her tightly to him 
he replied: 

“But I shall never be happy without you, Theresa.” 

“You must, Fred dear, I want you to soon forget that you 
ever loved me. I request it and you cannot refuse me now. 
My spirit will always follow you, wishing you happiness,” 
and releasing her arms from about his neck, she said, “You 
must leave me now, dear, and make your escape back across 
the border. You are running a great risk in coming here to 
see me.” She embraced him again as she said, “Good-bye, 
darling,” then pushed him from her as she told him to hurry. 

For a moment he was too overcome to speak. He arose 
and went to the door and with his hand on the door knob 
he turned; and looking back at her he exclaimed hopelessly 
from the depths of his soul, “My poor Theresa, I love you 
devotedly; how can I leave you ?” 

“Go,” she repeated urgently; “before it is too late.” 


XXXVI 


After his last interview with Theresa, Reaves went again 
to see the commanding officer and tried to get a rehearing 
or a postponement of carrying out the sentence, but that 
stern official would not yield. He left the officer and walked 
out into the night with a feeling of utter despair. The full 
guilt of Theresa’s plight was upon him, wringing his very 
soul. He had no thought of the direction he was going and 
it made no difference just so he was moving, he could not 
be still and think of what was going to happen to Theresa 
at sunrise the next morning. At last he found himself in 
the city which was some distance from the camp. He had 
not thought of how he was to get back across the border 
himself. His only thoughts were of the girl he loved, and 
how miserable he had failed in all his attempts to rescue her. 
He had reached that stage where trouble takes possession of 
the whole being, and one is heedless of his surroundings, 
even his own safety. 

Munich was back of the area where the enemy planes 
were liable to drop bombs, and the dim, unkept street lights 
flickered at every corner of the street. He started across 
the public square and a voice called to him from behind him, 
“Captain Heine!” 

He stopped and turned slowly around, thinking that one 
of the friends of the man he was impersonating was speak¬ 
ing to him. As he turned around the man who had called 
his name stopped, facing him, and saluted. In his dazed 
condition he stood still for a long time looking at the man 
who finally said: 

“You do not recognize me, sir?” 

“Oh, yes,” replied Reaves, recognizing his voice, “you are 
Lieutenant Musello, the pilot who brought me here from 
Italy. How is it that you are still here?” 

“I am not still here, sir, I am here again,” said the pilot, 
smiling up into Reaves’ troubled face. 

“Do you mean that you went back across the border, and 
then returned here again?” 


277 


278 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


“That is exactly what I did, sir.” 

“I don’t understand,” said Reaves, a little puzzled; and 
after a moment’s hesitation he asked, “Did you deliver my 
letter to Prince Polini?” 

“I delivered it to him in person, sir, and—he—asked me 
if I would come back—he thought I—might be of some 
service to you, sir.” 

“And you came back of your own choice?” put in Reaves. 

“I was delighted at the opportunity to serve you, sir. As 
you Americans say, I never like to start anything unless I 
can see it through.” 

“God bless you,” said Reaves, as he slapped him on the 
shoulder. 

As they walked slowly back to the camp the pilot—who was 
masquerading as lieutenant in the German aviation service, 
gave Reaves a brief outline of what had taken place across 
the border and especially along the Italian front during the 
time he had been away. Reaves had said nothing about 
Theresa to the young pilot since he met him in the city. The 
road which they had taken run along by the aviation field 
and as they came up even with the hangars the lieutenant 
stopped and, looking across the field, he said: 

“I will run over and see if my plane is all right, sir.” 

Reaves, suddenly thinking of their having to get back 
across the border, asked where he had left it. 

“Just a short distance over in the field here, sir,” replied 
Lieutenant Munsello, motioning in the direction where he 
had left the aeroplane. 

“I think I will walk over there with you,” replied Reaves 
casually. 

They both went over to where the lieutenant had left the 
plane, which was off to one side and in a position where 
they could make an instant getaway, if it became necessary. 
Reaves turned the propeller and the engine started with the 
greatest ease. While the lieutenant was testing it out to see 
that it was in perfect running condition Reaves stood a 
short distance away in the dark. Some distance from them 
in the open field stood the house in which Theresa was con¬ 
fined. It looked to his troubled vision like some evil monster 
holding in its merciless clutches the woman he loved. Fate 
had certainly played him a cruel trick at the last minute. At 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 279 


the very moment little cupid had begun to smile on his re¬ 
newed romance with Theresa, she had suddenly been 
snatched from him. Some day Germany must pay, this very 
officer, in whose power it was to save Theresa, must suffer 
for his heartless cruelty. As he stood there looking first at 
the aeroplane then at the prison, he thought that life without 
Theresa would not be worth living, and decided that there 
could be no more glorious death than to die in an attempt to 
save the girl he loved. The pilot came over and stood be¬ 
side him; and as he turned around to face him the pilot 
said: 

“She is in perfect condition, sir—good for a flight of five 
hundred miles.” 

Reaves looked at him a long time in silence then he pointed 
towards the house in the field in which a single light showed 
dimly through the heavy fog which had enveloped the whole 
camp and surrounding country. 

“In that house,” he began in a solemn voice as he looked 
towards the prison, “the girl I crossed the border to rescue 
is held a prisoner; sentenced to be executed at sunrise to¬ 
morrow. She has been convicted on trumped-up evidence, 
and I am going to try to rescue her, it is a dangerous under¬ 
taking—I do not expect to succeed but I shall gladly die in 
the attempt.” 

He stopped and turned his face in the direction of Lieuten¬ 
ant Musello. The brave soldier of Italy showed no emotion 
at what Reaves had said, but after a moment’s hesitation he 
replied, 

“I came back here, sir, hoping to be of some service to 
you. I am ready to go with you.” 

“You had better climb into your plane and start back to 
Italy at once,” Reaves told him. 

“I could never report to the Prince that I had left you 
under such circumstances, sir. I will share your fate gladly 
whatever it may be, sir.” 

Reaves was overcome by the young officer’s devotion, and 
for a moment he did not speak. Finally he turned to him as 
he asked: 

“Do you realize what you are about to do?” 

“Yes, sir, I am in full possession of all my normal senses.” 

For a long time the two men stood still looking into each 


280 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


other’s faces. Finally Reaves took the young officer by the 
hand and looking into his steady face, said: 

“Such friendship as yours is worthy of the gods, to whom 
we both may soon be called to answer.” 

A mutual understanding now existed betwen them, and 
they had reached that point where danger is forgotten, and 
the task to be undertaken consumed the whole mind. 

They moved off silently through the dense fog in the di¬ 
rection of the prison. Reaves had on his first visit to the 
camp made a study of the exterior of the building, and early 
in the evening when he had gone to see Theresa for the last 
time, he had noticed the general arrangement of the interior. 
There was only one door in front and one at the back of the 
house, but there were windows on every side. There were 
two guards constantly on duty, one marching back and 
forth near the front door, and the other performing a like 
duty at the rear of the building. They knew that the guard 
was changed every three hours, on the hour. It was then 
twenty minutes past two, it wouid be more than half an 
hour before the new shift would come on duty. 

They stopped a short distance from the house and Reaves 
explained his plans to Lieutenant Musello. In all his career 
he had never planned such desperate measures to accomplish 
his ends; but in dealing with a merciless foe, who was go¬ 
ing to execute the girl he loved, he felt that anything was 
justifiable, if it contributed to the success of his plan. They 
must not make any noise or attract the attention of anyone 
who might give an alarm. When they had come to a thor¬ 
ough understanding they separated, and Reaves walked up 
to the front of the house and engaged the guard in conver¬ 
sation, while the young officer disappeared into the darkness 
and by a circuitous route came up behind the man. They 
must not arouse the suspicions of the guard at the back of 
the house or the matron inside. Reaves had cautioned the 
lieutenant, who was almost on the guard from the rear, before 
the man heard and turned around to halt him. Reaves had 
been creeping up closer all the time he was talking to the 
guard, who stood with his bayonet ready for immediate use, 
and as he turned his attention to Lieutenant Musello he 
jumped on him, and seized him by the throat with his grip 
of steel. They quickly bound and gagged him, and started 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 281 


around the house to go through the same performance with 
the man guarding the rear door. It was fully a hundred and 
fifty feet from front to rear of the house, and as Reave**, 
rounded the corner he saw very faintly outlined in the dark¬ 
ness the figure of a man approaching from the rear. The 
guard at the front had been disposed of with the least 
possible noise, but the one in the rear had heard enough to 
arouse his suspicion and was coming around to investigate. 

Reaves did not like violence and for a single moment he 
hesitated. It was a serious situation, Theresa’s life, his and 
the lieutenant’s were all at stake. He must act quickly or 
all would be lost. He darted quickly back behind the corner 
where he could not be seen. All was quiet about the camp 
at that time of the night, and he heard with increasing dis¬ 
tinctness the heavy tread of the guard’s feet as he ap¬ 
proached. As he turned the corner of the house he stopped 
to look around him, in an instant Reaves leaped at him and 
dealt him a heavy blow on the head with his revolver, at 
the same time a shot rang out clear and distinct upon the 
stillness of the night air. The guard had seen him, but too 
late to ward off the blow, but in time to give the alarm by 
discharging his rifle. In an instant the lieutenant who had 
gone around the other side of the house was back, and al¬ 
most at that instant the door opened and the matron, a big, 
fat German woman with coarse features, appeared in the 
doorway. The lieutenant instantly decided to try to frighten 
her into silence. He quickly stepped in the doorway and 
looking at her with cruelty in his face, said in a low voice, 

“Silence or you die, you old hag.” 

For a moment she stood motionless, frightened out of her 
senses. 

Reaves darted in, and taking a bunch of keys from the 
matron’s hand, ran rapidly up the steps and to the door of 
the room in which Theresa was confined. He quickly opened 
the door with one of the keys he had taken from the matron. 
Theresa was lying across the bed, and she did not move 
when he entered the room. He hurried over to her and 
shook her, still she did not move. “My God! she is dead,” 
he exclaimed half-aloud. 

Torn between anguish and fear and goaded on by a feel¬ 
ing of desperation, he wrapped the lifeless body in a blanket 


282 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


and took her up in his arms and hurried down the steps. At 
the door the lieutenant was just finishing the job of tying and 
gagging the matron, and as Reaves approached bearing the 
lifeless form in his arms the lieutenant said: 

“She fainted, sir, and I thought it would be safer to tie her 
up so she could not give the alarm for a while/* 

Reaves gave no sign that he had heard what was said to 
him but hurried through the door and across the field to the 
aeroplane and placed Theresa in the back seat with the 
blanket about her. 

As he started around to start the engine he heard voices 
close by, and when he looked around he saw several men 
walking in their direction. The lieutenant had come up and 
the two men looked at each other significantly. The soldiers 
stopped and one of them took a step to the front and salut¬ 
ing said: 

“There was a shot over here somewhere sir, and we were 
sent to investigate.’* 

“Yes, we heard it,” answered Reaves with a note of author¬ 
ity in his voice; and then added, “I think it was over about 
the prison, you had better go over and investigate.” 

His ruse was successful. The soldier started off in the 
direction of the prison which was but a few hundred yards 
away, Reaves and the lieutenant were standing in direct line 
towards the prison and as the soldier passed on by them, the 
spokesman said in pleasantry: 

“Just getting in from the front I presume, sir?” 

“No,” replied Reaves, “we are just looking over the plane 
before starting for the front”; and after a moment he added, 
as though speaking to a comrade, “if you find trouble at the 
prison, give the alarm.” 

“I can take care of any trouble over there without bother¬ 
ing you,” replied the soldier confidently as he proceeded on 
his way. 

The two men stood and watched the soldiers until they 
were about fifty steps away, then Reaves ran around to the 
front of the machine, and at the same time the lieutenant 
jumped into the pilot’s seat. Reaves pulled down on the 
propeller and the engine responded with a roar. He ran back 
and climbed into the seat beside Theresa as the plane moved 
off and took the air. 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 283 


The heavy fog and darkness of the night favored them. 
It would be difficult to find them and still more difficult to 
distinguish the German plane they were in from those which 
might try to prevent their escape. The pilot set his compass 
and headed straight for the French border. His intention 
was to continue along close to the Swiss border when they 
reached Lake Constance so he could cross into a neutral 
country in case they could not make it to the French border. 
He had a little over two hundred miles to go by keeping on 
a straight line and he figured that if he could make it in two 
hours; it would still be dark and he had a better chance of 
getting by the border patrol without being shot to pieces. 

Reaves immediately turned his whole attention to the 
lifeless form of Theresa in the seat beside him. Something 
seemed to tell him she was not dead, he could feel no pulse 
but her body was warm. He took from his pocket a little 
flashlight and with his fingers gently opened her eyelids, 
the pupils were contracted down till they looked like pin 
points but there was a little response to the light. His 
heart leaped with joy, “Doped” he exclaimed, and then he 
quickly took the blankets from about her so the cold air 
would help to dispel the effects of the drug. Then taking a 
flask from his pocket he poured some strong spirits between 
her lips. He waited long and patiently for some sign of 
life, but she did not move or utter a sound. There was 
nothing further he could do. He had used every means at 
his disposal. 

Waiting for the issue of life or death, of one we love, is 
the greatest agony of the human soul. 

He looked at his watch. It was twenty-five minutes of 
five. He leaned over the side of the plane and looking 
towards the east he saw the first rays of daylight. A cloud 
crossed his face, he had hoped to be in France before day¬ 
light. They had escaped their pursuers at Munich but their 
greatest danger was ahead. As he stood there thinking over 
the situation, the pilot who had not spoken since they left 
the camp called back to him: 

“We are crossing the Vosges mountains, sir,” and after 
waiting a moment he added, “it would be safer for you to 
keep your head in, they are liable to start popping away 
at us any minute.” 


284 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


Reaves hardly heard what was said to him. In fact he 
appeared to be totally oblivious of the dangers they would 
encounter as they crossed the border. They were flying at 
a terrific speed and it was still dark. They knew that they 
were nearing the German lines and Reaves looked over the 
side of the plane; not a light was to be seen and there was no 
sound except that of the plane in which they were flying; he 
looked down at Theresa, she had moved, “Thank God, she 
lives,” he exclaimed. He felt her pulse; it was beating, but 
she did not answer or move when he spoke to her. He had 
a feeling that something was going to happen, and he began 
to wonder how they had gotten so far without being pursued. 
Things were going too well, but in another half-hour they 
would be safe in France, where he could get strong stim¬ 
ulants to revive Theresa. 

A loud report near their plane caused him to draw up 
sharply and as he turned around the sight that greeted his 
eyes made his blood run cold. The dreaded puff of white 
smoke was near their plane and huge searchlights cutting 
great holes through the darkness, were playing on them 
from half a dozen different angles. Shells soon began burst¬ 
ing all about them. He knew now why they had not been 
followed from Munich. The camp authorities had decided 
they could not overtake them and had telephoned ahead to the 
border patrol to be on the lookout for them. He leaned over 
towards the pilot and told him to keep straight ahead with all 
possible speed. The man fully realized the danger but 
replied slowly: 

“I shall go through, if she is not disabled, sir.” 

They were now almost over the German lines, and the 
shells had stopped bursting around them. They thought the 
enemy had given up the attack, but looking back through the 
grey dawn, they saw several dark objects coming towards 
them, and as they started across no man’s land, their pur¬ 
suers brought their machine guns into play, and as the 
bullets whistled by them Reaves turned longingly, and looked 
towards France. In plain view and close on them several 
French planes were coming to meet them. The French, 
mistaking them for enemies, opened up with their machine 
guns, and they were caught between two fires. Reaves 
ducked to his seat and did what he could to shield Theresa 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 285 


from the deadly crossfire. The brave pilot seeing their 
great danger brought his plane into a nose dive and as he 
performed the feat the bullets from both friend and foe 
rained on them like hail on a metal roof. Reaves felt a 
sting in his arm, and another on his head, but he was still 
conscious. 

After diving down close to the earth, the plane straight¬ 
ened out and like a wounded bird, quivering in every muscle, 
tried to make a safe landing in a small field, but the nose of 
the plane stuck in the ground and with one wing broken, it 
turned over on its side and lay still. Reaves and Theresa 
were both thrown out. The impact seemed to arouse 
Theresa to a slight extent, and she uttered a few incoherent 
words then again became unconscious. Reaves, covered with 
blood from two wounds, staggered to his feet and gave her 
more stimulant. He did not know whether they were across 
the border or still in Germany, but in a short time another 
plane landed near them and looking up he saw two men 
in French uniform climb down and hurry towards them, he 
was kneeling beside Theresa as the French aviators ap¬ 
proached, and spoke to them in French. 

“I am of the Allied Intelligence Service,” he said, “and 
we were making our escape in a German plane. The lady 
and myself are both Americans.” 

After he had succeeded in convincing them of his identity, 
they bandaged up his wounds from their first-aid packages. 
The lieutenant had for the moment been forgotten and 
Reaves, feeling that he could leave Theresa for a moment, 
looked around him, and not seeing his faithful pilot hurried 
to the plane followed by the two Frenchmen. 

They found him in his seat unconscious, his hands still 
holding to the steering gear, and his feet resting on the 
pedals. They gently lifted the unconscious form from the 
seat and stretched him out on the ground. Reaves removed 
his own coat and placed it under his head. Blood was 
flowing from a number of wounds, and while the French¬ 
man administered stimulants and did all they could for him 
in other ways, Reaves again turned his attention to Theresa. 
The effect of the drug she had taken had begun to wear 
off, she was conscious but very weak. 

The stimulant which had been given the pilot revived him 


286 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


slightly and when he opened his eyes and saw the two men 
in French uniform he exclaimed weakly, “France, our noble 
ally.” 

The Frenchmen hearing what he had uttered, and in re¬ 
spect to a dying soldier took off their hats and stood in 
silence with bowed heads. Reaves had come back to him and 
was kneeling by the dying man, clasping his hand. He 
opened his eyes again and asked almost in a whisper: 

“Is she safe?” 

“Yes, thank God,” replied Reaves, in a broken voice, “she 
has revived and was not wounded.” 

“Then I die happy.” 

The lips of the dying man continued to move but he could 
not speak and Reaves, seeing that he was conscious and 
trying to say something, gave him some more stimulant. 
In a few minutes he opened his eyes again and looking 
steadily at Reaves he said: 

“I have a sweetheart in Milan—won’t you—write her— 
how I died?” 

“She shall know my good friend,” replied Reaves, “that 
you died doing your duty, as a brave soldier of Italy.” 

The man smiled faintly and closed his eyes, never to open 
them again. 

Reaves dropped the limp hand and arose to his feet. For 
a long time he stood looking down into the face of the brave 
pilot, who lay there dead. Not more than three hours ago 
this man, full of the enthusiasm of youth, had started out 
with him to make a desperate attempt to rescue Theresa. 
They had succeeded in that desperate undertaking, but, alas, 
the brave boy had lost his own life. Fate had again dealt 
him a blow. He admired the reckless bravery of this son 
of Italy and wanted him for his friend but—now—he was 
dead. As he stood there nursing the agony of his soul, a 
tear was seen to trickle slowly down his cheek. Finally he 
stooped down and pulled the blanket over the dead face, then 
returned to where he had left Theresa. 


XXXVII 


In her half-conscious state of mind Theresa had seen 
Reaves kneeling over the body on the ground. She had seen 
him cover the man’s face, and then stand silently and gaze 
down at the figure lying still upon the ground, while the two 
Frenchmen stood by with hats off, and heads bowed. She 
thought of the prison sentence hanging over her; the drug 
she had taken, and then—she could remember nothing more 
until now, Reaves, the two Frenchmen, the man lying prone 
upon the ground, the broken aeroplane near by. She had 
been rescued and brought to France and the man must have 
been hurt seriously or was he dead? She staggered to her 
feet and started towards them, but the drug and the shock 
of all she had been through was too much for her strength, 
and she fell to the ground in a dead faint, from which they 
could not arouse her. 

In a short time an ambulance with a doctor and nurses 
arrived on the scene and gentle hands placed her on a 
stretcher, and carried her to the hospital. Reaves refused to 
consider his wounds serious, and was taken to the officers’ 
quarters where he exchanged Captain Heine’s blood-soaked 
uniform which he wore for other clothes. In the meantime 
the doctor who had taken charge of Theresa came to dress 
his wounds. As the doctor placed his little handbag on the 
table he said: 

“The lady has received a severe shock—and she has been 
doped.” 

“Will she recover?” asked Reaves, looking at him quickly. 

After a pause the doctor said slowly: 

“She is very sick now, but she will be well again after a 
few weeks.” 

“Then nothing else matters,” said Reaves. 

* * * * * 

The following morning an English plane landed in the 
field near the camp. A man climbed out of the front seat, 
and assisted a lady from the rear one. The man wore the 

287 


288 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


uniform of a British colonel, they walked straight to the 
hospital, and after stopping a minute at the office, they went 
down a long hall and entered one of the wards, stopping just 
inside the door. As they looked down the two rows of white 
beds, they saw a man with his head done up in bandages and 
one arm in a sling sitting by one of the little beds. The 
elbow of the man’s good hand was resting on the side of the 
narrow bed and his chin was resting in his hand. He was 
gazing into the still pale face of a girl on the bed before him. 
On the opposite side from him was a red cross nurse with 
her hand constantly on the pulse of the patient. The man 
by the bedside had his back to the door and did not see the 
man and woman enter, but when they stopped beside him he 
looked up and as he recognized them he staggered to his feet 
and extended his hand. 

“I am so glad you have come,” he said, trying to smile. 

The colonel put his hand on Reaves’ shoulder and said: 

“I happened to be in Paris last night and quite by accident 
I was at headquarters when your telegram arrived,” and 
looking at the lady beside him he added, “1 looked up Lady 
Louise here, and told her about it, and she insisted that she 
must come down with me, and that we must start at the 
earliest possible moment.” 

“Oh, I could not stay away, Mr. Reaves, knowing that 
Theresa was so ill, and among strange people,” said Lady 
Cullen. 

“It was very sweet of you to come,” said Reaves, and 
looking at the unconscious form of Theresa he added, “I 
know she is—or would be—delighted to—er—” he did not 
finish the sentence, but turned his head and appeared to be 
gazing out through the window into space. 

As they watched him in reverent silence, there was a slight 
quiver of his lips while he stood there looking very pale and 
weak from the loss of blood from his wounds, his head and 
arm swathed in bandages. 

What a contrast thought his two friends: a few months 
ago they had seen him in Northern France and at that time 
he was a man of steel nerves and unconquerable will, a bold 
challenger of fate, who believed firmly in his star of destiny, 
but now as he awaited the issue of life and death, of the 
girl he loved, he had become a victim of those same emo- 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 289 

tions he had so often condemned as weaknesses in others. 
He was a broken man, an object of pity. After a long 
silence Lord Cullen put his hand on his friend’s shoulder 
and said: 

“This is not like you, Reaves, pull yourself together.” 
Lady Cullen took him gently by the arm and smiling into 
his sad face said: 

“Theresa is going to be all right, something tells me so, 
and I am going to stay here to help nurse her until she is 
well.” 

Reaves looked into her face with a smile, as he said, 
“That will be wonderful of you, I always knew you were 
that sort.” 

“Now you two men leave me here to look after Theresa 
and go for a walk,” continued Lady Cullen. 

The two men left the building and she went over to the 
bed and leaned over the pale face and pressed a gentle kiss 
on Theresa’s forehead. 

The following day Reaves went to Paris with Lord Cullen 
to report to headquarters the information he had collected 
while masquerading as Captain Heine. Lady Cullen re¬ 
mained at the camp to be with Theresa. It was his intention 
to return within a couple of days, but important matters 
came up which required his immediate attention, and 
a message from Lady Cullen informed him that Theresa 
was out of danger, so he left Paris and again took up the 
important work of ferreting out the secret plans of the 
enemy. 


XXXVIII 


Almost daily while Reaves was away on important busi¬ 
ness he communicated with the hospital and kept informed 
as to Theresa’s condition, and when he was notified that they 
would return to Paris on a certain date, he made his ar¬ 
rangements to arrive there a few days later. 

Theresa had completely recovered from her harrowing ex¬ 
periences and was quite herself again. It was the middle of 
April and America was daily expected to declare war on 
Germany. Excitement was running high in Paris and 
Americans were everywhere hailed with great enthusiasm. 
Theresa was stopping with some friends and was enter¬ 
tained lavishly by the French people, who never lost oppor¬ 
tunity to gain favor from Americans of influence. She was 
everywhere accompanied by Reaves whose unceasing atten¬ 
tion to her was very gratifying to Lady and Lord Cullen. 

On the night of the 26th of April, after receiving the news 
that America had declared war, they joined the wild crowds 
which thronged the streets of Paris with such joy at the news 
that America would bring relief to their hard-pressed and 
widely-depleted armies, who with their back towards their 
sacred city were fighting desperately to hold back the Ger¬ 
man hordes. 

Reaves had taken Theresa back to where she was stopping 
while in the city and just before departing for his hotel he 
announced to the guests assembled, which included Lord 
Cullen and his wife, that he would leave for America in a 
couple of days on an important mission. 

Theresa quickly looked at him, then her eyes dropped to 
the floor. “He is the same heartless, relentless creature, only 
seeing his duty to business,” she said to herself. 

Noticing her attitude Lady Cullen hastened to remark, 
“we will miss you very much, but I suppose it will not be 
for very long.” 

“I cannot tell,” he answered thoughtfully, and looking at 
290 . 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 291 


her he added, “I hope to come back soon, wearing the uni¬ 
form of a United States soldier.” 

“You have worn the uniform of my country with great 
distinction, and we hate to lose you,” put in Lord Cullen. 

Reaves bowed gently and thanked him, then after saying 
good-night to the guests he returned to his hotel. 

The other members of the party were leaving about the 
same time, and after all had gone but Lord and Lady Cullen 
she turned to him and said, “I shall not return with you to¬ 
night—I will remain here with Theresa.” 

The Englishman bowed, then picked up his hat and cane 
and departed. 

The two girls were alone in the room, for a minute they 
stood there in silence looking at the door through which 
the guests had departed, finally Lady Cullen looked at 
Theresa with a smile, then walked over and put her arm 
around her as she said: 

“It will be all right dear, don’t worry.” 

“You are such a dear loyal friend,” said Theresa, as she 
leaned her head on her shoulder. 

**\ou are so tired tonight,” said Lady Cullen, “you must 
go to sleep and tomorrow we will talk things over.” 

“He doesn’t love me,” said Theresa trying to keep the 
tears back. 

Lady Cullen looked straight into her eyes and said. 

“Theresa, dear, you are entirely wrong, a man never loved 
a girl w r ith a purer love or a more sincere devotion; not only 
my intuition tells me so, but look what he has risked for you, 
think of the agony of soul he went through while you were 
so ill, and he thought you would not recover.” 

She stopped and looked away as she continued: 

“I shall never forget the look on his face that day in the 
hospital while you were unconscious; distress, agony, despair 
showed on every line of his handsome face. Think of his 
attentions to you since he came back to Paris, and it seems 
that he feels he can’t do enough for me, in trying to show 
his appreciation of my little attentions to you. Only this 
morning he said to me, ‘Whatever our lot in life, he would 
always remember that I saved you—’ ” 

The following afternoon Lady Cullen learning that 
Reaves was at his hotel, called there and sent a note up to 


292 BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 


his room telling him that she wished to see him in one of 
the little private parlors. In a very few minutes he appeared 
in the doorway dressed in a new uniform, wearing the in¬ 
signia of a Major in the Royal Flying Corps. As she looked 
at him he smiled and advanced into the room as he said: 

“Delighted to see you, Lady Cullen. How is Theresa?” 

She looked at him a moment; there was no smile on her 
face, then she let her eyes drop back to the book on which 
her hand rested on the center table. 

“I have come to take you to her,” she said. 

The smile left his face, but it did not harden, it was rather 
an expression of sadness. 

“Did she send for me?” he asked, without changing his 
expression. 

“You will go, won’t you?” persisted Lady Cullen. 

There was a long silence before he answered: 

“She sent me away from her more than two years ago,” 
he said, “and told me that if she ever wanted me, she would 
send for me.” 

She looked up at him. “Then her heart has sent me for 
you,” she said solemnly. 

“Thank God,” exclaimed Reaves—and after a pause he 
added, “I was thinking that possibly she loved Captain 
Heine.” 

Lady Cullen laughed outright then said, “There are 
still some fools among the men.” 

As they entered the house Lord Cullen came in and joined 
them. 

“Prince Polini arrived this morning,” he announced. 

“Oh!” exclaimed Lady Cullen, turning to Reaves, “did 
you know that the Prince and Helen are engaged?” 

“No, I had not heard,” replied Reaves, a little nervously. 

Lady Cullen motioned Reaves on into the drawing room, 
while she stood in the hall talking to her husband about the 
effects of America’s entry into the war. 

Theresa was at the piano when Reaves entered, she heard 
the door close and looking around she saw him; he had 
stopped on the threshold. She arose and faced him calmly. 

“Did you send for me, Theresa?” 

“Yes,” she said simply. 

He started forward and she came to meet him, and as he 


BEHIND THE SCENES OF DESTINY 293 

clasped her in his arms she exclaimed, “Oh, Fred, haven’t 
you known all the time that I loved only you?” 

“You told me that you would send for me when you 
wanted me,” he replied. 

“And you have obeyed so well that I am going to make 
another request,” she told him. 

“What is it, my own dear Theresa?” 

“Please, dear Fred, love me always and don’t ever leave 
me again.” 

He kissed her again, then held her out at arm’s length from 
him as he replied, “I have never ceased to love you since 
that first day at your home in New England, when we walked 
out to the little flower house, and I shall love you, dearest, 
always.” 


THE END 





































































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